"The meanest hind in fair Scotland May rove their sweets amang,But I, the Queen of a' Scotland, Maun lie in prison strang."

"Groves, fields, and meadows," says Addison, "are at every season of the year pleasant to look upon, but never so much so as in the opening of the spring, when they are all new and fresh, with their first gloss upon them, and not yet too much accustomed and familiar to the eye;" and now indeed the living verdure beneath our feet, the buds just bursting into young leaves, and the rich blossoms of the trees, are in all their freshness, beauty, and fragrance, and charm every sense with their grateful influence. Luxuriant blades of tender grass carpet every field and bank, meadow and ranging hill, with mantling green; and the simple daisy, pale primrose, yellow cowslip, and rich glowing butter-cup, are spangling the banks and meads with their lively contrast. The hawthorn boughs, studded with white May-blossom, adorn the lanes and hedges in every direction, and perfume the country far and wide with their rich fragrance, and especially in the immediate neighbourhood of the villages

"Down by the hamlet's hawthorn-scented way."

The sweet-briar, eglantine, honeysuckle, and woodbine, hang in festoons at the whitewashed porch of the clean humble cottage, with its "niceiv-sanded floor;" while the orchards and gardens are "all breathing balm," with the bloom of their fruit-trees, lilacs, and laburnums, and glittering with gorgeous beds of waving tulips, virgin-lilies, and blooming roses. The water-violet and buck-bean unfold their petals as aquatic plants, the ferns of the forest expand their reticulated shapes, and the delicate blue-bells and forget-me-nots, "hidden from day's garish eye," unfold, in the seclusion of woods and ruins, their simple and modest beauty; while the "desert air" of moors and woodlands, heaths and wilds, have their "waste places" enlivened by the clear bright yellow flowers of the gorse and broom. The horse-chesnuts, too, are laden with rich white blossom, and the waving of the tender blades of the corn-field gladdens the anxious eye of the husbandman.

The favourite horse now enjoys the fresh paddock, while the younger and wilder colts of his species roam at large, in spontaneous gallops and unbridled joys, over the unfettered pastures of the hill-sides; the cows ruminate in full enjoyment of their new-springing herbage, and yield to the dairymaid their creamy stores, for fresh May-butter and abundant cheese; while the lowing herds of cattle, and bleating flocks of sheep with their young gambolling lambs, are heard far and wide throughout the land :"See how the younglings frisk along the meads, As May comes on, and wakes the balmy wind,Rampant with life, their joy all joy exceeds !"

THOMSON.

nious love-tones in the depth of woods; and the active crows are seen flying with lusty wing on affairs connected with their own domestic polity. The spotted flycatcher builds her nest in vines or sweet-briar, against the wall and near our doors-the quietest and most familiar of our summer birds; the sedge-bird sings incessantly during the breeding time, and, imitating the notes of other birds, is called the English mock-bird; and the swallow skims the earth, and with plastic skill repairs or rebuilds her family mansion beneath the skirt and protection of our roof. As evening approaches, the goat-sucker, or fern-owl, searches for her prey, uttering a most disagreeable and discordant noise. All being hushed, the divine nightingale commences in this month her "love-laboured song," and entrances into ecstacy every mort. ear so favoured as to be an auditor of her unearthly melody. The poets of every age and clime have done honour to the celestial warbling of this favourite songstress; but the simple and beautiful reflection of the venerable Izaak Walton is, we think, not surpassed by any other meed of approbation :-"The nightingale," he says, "another of my airy creatures, breathes such sweet loud music out of her little instrumental throat, that it might make mankind to think miracles are not ceased. He that at midnight, when the very labourer sleeps securely, should hear, as I have falling, the doubling and redoubling of her voice, might well be often, the clear airs, the sweet descants, the natural rising and lifted above earth, and say, Lord, what music hast thou provided for the saints in heaven, when thou affordest bad men such music

on earth!"'

her light, and the May.fly appears on the waters in this month.Among the insect creation, the bee swarms, the glow-worm gives The bee traverses on busy wing the realms of air, with headlong haste examines with her sucker the latent materials for honey and honey-comb in the petalled recesses of the flowery world, and "sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet," singing gaily at her toil, and returning laden with treasure, after miles of excursive travel, to her remembered hive. The glow-worm is seen, as evening advances, on the dry banks of woods and pastures, shedding her phosphorescent and brilliant halo among the dark leaves of her retreat. The May-fly of the angler is, according to Gilbert White, the shortest-lived of any of the insect race, emerging from its chrysalis-cerements in the water at about six in the evening, and dying at eleven the same night. Our young readers may be acquainted with the beautiful lines in reference to this brief span of by Charles Knight, the well-known bookseller. existence, in the Penny Magazine of 1832, at page 64, written

The finny tribes, during the month of May, are in full vigour, and the "patient angler" pursues his "contemplative recreation" to his heart's content and the full windings of his line. May is especially the fly-fishers' month; for the Complete Angler of Walton and Cotton has its dialogue entirely confined to the first and ninth of May. The opening of this matchless composition is a conference between an angler, a hunter, and a falconer, "stretching their legs up Tottenham-hill, on a fine fresh May-morning;" and Cotton, in discoursing on this month, says, "And now, sir, that we are entering into the month of May, I think it requisite to beg not only your attention, but also your best patience; for I must now be a little tedious with you, and dwell upon this month longer than ordinary: which, that you may better endure, I must tell you this month deserves and requires to be insisted on; forasmuch as it alone, and the next following, afford more pleasure to the fly-angler than all the rest." Cotton, indeed, "the affectionate son and servant," (as he respectfully styles himself), of his "most worthy father and friend, Mr. Izaak Walton, the Elder," was himself a Derbyshire angler, and resided near the celebrated Dove-Dale; and Walton says, in their commendation, "I think the best trout-anglers be in Derbyshire, for the waters there are referring to the romantic streams of the Peak of Derbyshire, for, clear to an extremity;" being also equally complimentary in in speaking of the Lathkin and the Wye, near Bakewell, he thus expatiates: "The Lathkin is by many degrees the purest and most transparent stream that I ever yet saw, either at home or abroad; and breeds, it is said, the reddest and the best trout in England; and the Wye is a most delicate, clear river, and breeds admirable trout and grayling." This honoured Wye, we may also add, rolls its clear and serpentine waters through the vale of Haddon, in every variety of depth and shallowness, or of slowness and rapidity, winding its playful course over the level meadows-in a straight line of only two miles from Bakewell to Haddon-hall, through an actual length of nearly nine miles in measured dis. tance; and on its verdant banks, at this season of the year, the numerous assemblage of brethren of the angle and votaries of the

gentle art" may be truly said to celebrate all the anglers' honours due to their merry month of May.

May forms the confine of boundary between spring and summer, and bas, in all ages and countries, been hailed as the fresh glowing forenoon of the day of human life, whose bright vision dwells enshrined in the memory, associated with all those feelings which bloom in the heart in the May-tide of our lives. Our English poets have felt this truth in all its fulness, and have delighted to apply it.

"Flushed by the spirit of the genial year,

Now from the virgin's cheek a fresher bloom
Shoots, less and less, the live carnation round;

Her lips blush deeper sweets-she breathes of youth.”—THOMSON. The month of May is the period when all nature is "blooming and benevolent," and the finer and more tender feelings of our nature develope themselves-the month of Love. The objects of the inanimate world are the glad reflectors of their Creator's glory, and in air or earth, sky or ocean, remind man of the imagined glories of that Eden he has lost;-the wild tribes of the brute creation evince their animal spirits with uncontrolled restraint ;-while the heart of man, on the contrary, is vibrating in unison with mingled causes of excitement, and influenced by the thousand joys he feels glowing within him and around him :-"in short," says Addison, "our souls are delightfully lost and bewildered in a pleasing delusion."

"In joyous youth, what soul hath never known
Thought, feeling, taste, harmonious to its own?"

CAMPBELL. Shakspeare very pointedly speaks of this attribute of the month, when he says,

"Love, whose month was ever May!"

I. The claims, then, of which we speak, are of the most weighty and serious character. They grow out of those indissoluble relations which you sustain to society; and those invaluable interests, social, civil, and religious, which have come down to us, a most precious inheritance, from our fathers, and which, with all the duties and responsibilities connected with them, are soon to be transferred to your hands and to your keeping. I look forward a few short years, and see the aspect of society entirely changed. The venerable fathers, who have borne the heat and burden of the day, are dropping, one after another, into the grave, and soon they will all be gone. Of those, too, who are now the acting members of society, some have passed the meridian of life, others are passing it, and all will soon be going down its decline, to mingle with the generations who have disappeared before them, from this transient scene of action. To a mind seriously contemplating this mournful fact, it is an inquiry of deep and tender interest:-who are to rise up and fill their places? To whom are to be committed the invaluable interests of this community? Who are to sustain its responsibilities and discharge its duties? You anticipate the answer. It is to you, young men, that these interests are to be committed and these responsibilities transferred. You are fast advancing to fill the places of those who are fast retiring to give place to a new generation. You are soon to occupy the houses, and own the property, and fill the offices, and possess the power, and direct the influence that are now in other hands. The various departments of business and trust, the pulpit and the bar, our courts of justice and halls of legislation, our civil, religious, and literary institutions,-all, in short, that constitute society, and goes to make life useful and happy, are to be in your

hands and under your control.

This representation is not made to excite your vanity, but to impress you with a due sense of your obligations. You cannot

"Here Love his golden shafts employs, here lights

His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings,
Reigns here and revels."

But there are feelings and principles of a higher order than even the most refined affection of one human creature for another, founded on that love to the Creator which leads to the works of benevolence and Christian charity, so signally promoted by the public meetings in our metropolis which crowd the diary of the month of May. This is an homage to the God of the seasons, and his means of regenerating his "eternal spring" within the human breast, of a character incomparably higher, because more enduring, than the fugitive ecstacies and inward joys not based on an imperishable foundation.

CLAIMS OF SOCIETY ON YOUNG MEN.*

WHEN Catiline attempted to overthrow the liberties of Rome, he began by corrupting the young men of the city, and forming them for deeds of daring and crime. In this he acted with keen discernment of what constitutes the strength and safety of a community-the VIRTUE and INTELLIGENCE of its YOUTH-especially of its YOUNG MEN. This class of persons has, with much propriety, been denominated the flower of a country—the rising hope of the church and society. Whilst they are preserved uncorrupted, and come forward with enlightened minds and good morals, to act their respective parts on the stage of life, the foundations of social order and happiness are secure, and no weapon formed against the safety of the community can prosper. This, indeed, is a truth so obvious, that all wise and benevolent men, whether statesmen, philanthropists, or ministers of religion, have always felt a deep and peculiar interest in this class of society; and in all attempts to produce reformation and advance human happiness, the young, and particularly young men, have engaged their first and chief regards.

of the duties that are coming upon you, without feeling deeply your need of high and peculiar qualifications. In committing to you her interests and privileges, society imposes upon you corresponding claims, and demands that you be prepared to fill, with honour and usefulness, the places which you are destined to occupy. She looks to you for future protection and support, and while she opens her arms to welcome you to her high immunities and her hopes, she requires of you the cultivation of those virtues, and the attainment of those qualifications, which can alone prepare you for the duties and scenes of future life.

Such, then, being the claims of society, let us inquire

II. How you may be prepared to meet them.

1. And, first of all, it is demanded that you awake to a serious consideration of the duties and prospects before you. I mention this first, because, if a young man cannot be persuaded to consider what he is, and what he is to become in future life, nothing worthy or good can be expected of him. And, unhappily, this is the think. They seem resolved to live only for the present moment, character of too many young men. They cannot be made to and for present gratification. As if the whole of their existence were comprised in the passing hour, and they had no concern in any future duty or event, they never cast forward a thought to their coming days, nor inquire how they are to fulfil the great end of their being.

Of these gay and thoughtless triflers, society has nothing to expect. They may have their little day of sunshine and pleasure; then they will vanish and be forgotten, as if they had never been. This is unworthy the character of a rational being. Man was made for a nobler end than thus to pass away life in mere levity and trifling. He was made for thought and reflection; he was made to serve God and his generation, in a life of beneficent action; and he never exercises his faculties more in accordance with the dignity of his nature, than when he considers the end for which he was created, and inquires how he may best fulfil the great purposes of his being. And this, my friends, is an exercise peculiarly appropriate at your time of life. Joyous and flattering as the prospect before you may seem, let me tell you there is much in it that is fitted to make you serious and thoughtful. You cannot take a just view of your state and prospects, without feel

for holiness and God.

From Lectures to Young Men, by the Rev. Dr. Hawes, of Hartford, New England.

interest. Your Creator has placed you here in the midst of a tioners for eternity, then to pass from the stage and be here no shifting and transient scene, to sojourn a little while as probamore. He has formed you for society, for duty and happiness; and has so connected you with the living beings around you, that they, as well as yourselves, are to feel the good or ill effects of

your conduct, long after you shall have gone to render up your account at his bar. How imperious, to beings in such a state, is the duty of consideration! How wise, how all-important to inquire-What am I, and what is my destination in this and the future world? For what end was I created, and for what purpose placed here in the midst of beings like myself? What are the relations which I sustain to those beings and to society? What the duties which I owe to them? How can I be prepared to perform those duties, and how accomplish the great end for which my Creator gave me existence, and placed me in this world of probation and trial? The man who thinks lightly of such inquiries, or who never brings them home to his own bosom, as matters of direct, personal concern, violates every principle of reason and common prudence. Let me press them upon you, my young friends, as demanding your first and chief attention. They are indeed grave inquiries; and light, trifling minds may reject them because they are so. They are suggested by the reality of things; and never, without a due consideration of them, can you be qualified for the duties of life, or sustain the responsibilities so soon to come upon you as members of society.

2. Another requisite for meeting the claims of society is intelligence, or a careful cultivation of your minds. In despotic governments, where the subject is a mere vassal, and has no part either in making or executing the laws, ignorance is, no doubt, as the advocates of legitimacy claim, an essential qualification of a good citizen. The less he knows of his rights, the more contented he is to be deprived of them; and the less he understands of duty, the more pliable he is as a mere instrument of ambition and power. Not so in this country (United States). Here every man is a public man. He has an interest in the community, and exerts an important influence over the interests of others. He is a freeman; and this ought always to mean the same thing as an intelligent man. He possesses the right of suffrage; and, in the exercise of that right, he is often called to aid in the election of rulers, to deliberate and act respecting the public welfare,-to fill offices of influence and trust, and to perform innumerable duties in the course of life, which can be well performed only in the possession of an intelligent and well-furnished mind. And certainly, whatever be a man's circumstances, he cannot but be a happier and more useful man by possessing such a mind.

It is not an extended, critical acquaintance with the sciences, on which I here insist; this must of necessity be confined to a few : but such a measure of knowledge as may be acquired by men of business, by all men who will but make a proper use of their faculties and time. Franklin was a man of business; he was an apprentice boy in a printing-office; but by a careful improvement of that time, which by many young men is thrown away, he became one of the wisest statesmen and most distinguished philosophers of his day. Sherman, too, of our own state, was a man of business; he was a shoe-maker; but by self-impulse, by patient, untiring effort, he rose from the bench of the shoe-maker, seated himself in the halls of congress, and there took his place with the first.

A small portion of that leisure time which you all possess, and which, by too many, is given to dissipation and idleness, would enable any young man to acquire a very general knowledge of men and things. A judicious economy of that time, for one year, would afford you opportunity to read a great many useful volumes, and to treasure up much useful knowledge. The means of intellectual improvement were never more abundant or accessible to all classes of persons than at the present day; and, I may add, never were there stronger inducements for young men to avail themselves of those means, and to aim at high attainments in knowledge. Society is rapidly advancing in general improvement; the field of enterprise is fast widening, and useful talents of every kind find ample scope for employment. And permit me to remind you, my friends, that, in respect to mental improvement, the present is the most important period of your life. It is, indeed, the only period in which you can enter upon such a course of improvement with any hope of success. If from the age of fifteen to twenty-five a young man neglects the cultivation of his mind, he will probably neglect it till the end of life. If during that period he does not form a habit of reading, of observation, and reflection, he will never form such a habit; but go through the world as the dull ass goes to market, none the wiser for all the wonders that are spread around him.

I am the more anxious to impress this subject on your minds, because I consider your usefulness, your present and future happiness, as most intimately connected with it. A young man who has a fondness for books, or a taste for the works of nature and

art, is not only preparing to appear with honour and usefulness as a member of society, but is secure from a thousand temptations and evils to which he would otherwise be exposed. He knows what to do with his leisure time. It does not hang heavily on his hands. He has no inducement to resort to bad company, or the haunts of dissipation and vice; he has higher and nobler sources of enjoyment in himself. At pleasure, he can call around him the best of company, the wisest and greatest men of every age and country,—and feast his mind with the rich stores of knowledge which they spread before him. A lover of good books can never be in want of good society, nor in much danger of seeking enjoy. ment in the low pleasures of sensuality and vice.

3. Another thing demanded of you by society, is an upright and virtuous character. If a young man is loose in his principles and habits; if he lives without plan and without object, spending his time in idleness and pleasure, there is more hope of a fool than of him. He is sure to become a worthless character, and a pernicious member of society. He forgets his high destination as a rational, immortal being; he degrades himself to a level with the brute; and is not only disqualified for all the serious duties of life, but proves himself a nuisance and a curse to all with whom he is connected.

No young man can hope to rise in society, or act worthily his part in life, without a fair, moral character. The basis of such a character is virtuous principle; or a deep, fixed sense of moral obligation, sustained and invigorated by the fear and the love of God. The man who possesses such a character can be trusted. Integrity, truth, benevolence, justice, are not with him words without meaning; he knows and he feels their sacred import, and aims, in the whole tenor of his life, to exemplify the virtues they express. Such a man has decision of character;-he knows what is right, and is firm in doing it. Such a man has independence of character;-he thinks and acts for himself, and is not to be made a tool of to serve the purposes of party. Such a man has consistency of character;-he pursues a straight forward course, and what he is to-day, you are sure of finding him to-morrow. Such a man has true worth of character ;—and his life is a blessing to himself, to his family, to society, and to the world.

Aim then, my friends, to attain this character,-aim at virtue and moral excellence. This is the first, the indispensable qualification of a good citizen. It imparts life, and strength, and beauty, not only to individual character, but to all the institutions and interests of society. It is indeed the dew and the rain that nourish the vine and the fig-tree, by which we are shaded and

refreshed.

4. Another thing demanded of you by society is public spirit. Every young man should come forward in life with a determination to do all the good he can, and to leave the world the better for his having lived in it. He should consider that he was not made for himself alone; but for society, for mankind, and for God. He should feel that he is a constituent, responsible member of the great family of man; and while he should pay particular attention to the wants and the welfare of those with whom he is immediately connected, he should accustom himself to send his thoughts abroad, over the wide field of practical benevolence, and early learn to feel and act for the good of his species.

I say early, because if you do not begin, in the morning of life, to cherish a public spirit—a spirit of active, enterprising benevo lence, you will probably never possess much of it. This is a virtue that rarely springs up late in life. If it grow and flourish at all, it must be planted in youth, and be nourished by the warm sunshine and rain of the spring season of life. He who cares only for himself in youth, will be a very niggard in manhood, and a wretched miser in old age.

And consider what a poor, miserable kind of existence it is, to live only to one's self. It is indeed but half living. "Selfishness has been well termed a starveling vice. It its own curse. He who does no good, gets none. He who cares not for others, will soon find that others will not care for him. As he lives to himself, so he will die to himself, and nobody will miss him, or be sorry that he is gone *."

Guard against this temper, my friends, as most unworthy in itself, and destructive of all respectability and usefulness. Cultivate a spirit of enlarged benevolence, a generous, self-denying, public spirit, which shall cause you to feel and take an interest in whatever affects the happiness, or conduces to the improvement of your fellow-men. Especially is this a duty incumbent on you at the present day. It is a day of action,-of action in the cause

James's Christian Father's Present.

of God and human happiness. The young men of this generation are called to a great work. God is fast preparing the way for this world's emancipation from the thraldom and misery under which it has been groaning for six thousand years; and to those who are now coming upon the stage, does he extend the high privilege and honour of bearing a part in effecting this glorious work. See to it, then, that you forfeit not the honour, by acting on the principle of a narrow and contracted selfishness. Cherish that noble, that disinterested, that rare patriotism, which will make you prefer the public interest to your own ;-your country's prosperity and glory to your own honour and emolument.

III. In glancing at the motives which urge upon you the duty of being prepared to meet the claims of society, it is encouraging to observe,

1. That the qualifications demanded are entirely within your power. There is not one of you who cannot awake to a serious consideration of the duties and responsibilities that are soon to be devolved upon you; and this is the first and main thing necessary to your being prepared to sustain them. There is not one of you who cannot become intelligent, virtuous, public-spirited, and pious; and, adorned with these graces, you will be prepared to fill, with honour to yourselves, and usefulness to society, the various stations to which God in his providence may call

you.

2. It is a consideration of great weight, that the claims, of which we have been speaking, are fixed upon you, and there is no possibility of escaping from them. God has brought you into being in circumstances of deep and solemn interest. He has cast your lot in the midst of a Christian and civilised society, and surrounded you with privileges of a very high and peculiar character. Soon you are to come upon the stage to act the part assigned you, soon to have committed to you all the various and infinitely important interests of this community. And for the manner in which you sustain these interests, you are held accountable at the bar of your final Judge. In this matter there is no discharge, and there is no neutrality. Whether you shall exist as members of society, and finally give account of your conduct, is not submitted to your choice. This point God has decided. You must exist; you must exist in the midst of society; -burdened with the weighty responsibilities that grow out of the relations you sustain to the living beings around you, and to the generations that are coming after you; and you must take the eternal consequences of living and acting in these deeply interesting circumstances. Nothing more, one would think, need be said to excite you to a diligent improvement of your talents, and to an untiring, faithful discharge of the duties which you owe to yourselves, to your fellow-men, and to God.

3. Consider next the value of the interests that are soon to be committed to you. Much is said, and most justly, of the happy state of society in which our lot is cast. We may truly say, the lines have fallen to us in pleasant places, and we have a goodly heritage. It is a heritage which is endeared to us by a thousand tender and sacred associations; for which our fathers laboured and prayed; for which they lived and died ;-which has been preserved to us through many dangers and conflicts, and at a great expense of treasure and blood. It is a heritage, on which the smiles of Heaven have always rested,-which comprises more good with less evil, than is anywhere else to be found on earth: which contains, in short, all that is most essential to the perfection and happiness of man, both in this and the future world. Of this inheritance, young men, you are soon to be the guardians and defenders. To all its institutions and blessings, to all its privileges and hopes, you are the natural heirs, and on you lies the weighty obligation of preserving it entire, for the generation that is to succeed you. If you fail to be qualified for the high trust, or prove unfaithful in the sacred duties which it involves, how fearful the consequences, -how irreparable the loss! It is entirely in your power to turn this garden of the Lord into a desolation: to sweep from it all that is goodly and fair. Let but the rising generation come upon the stage, without intelligence, without virtue, without public spirit, without piety; inconsiderate, dissipated, vicious; and in thirty years, the dismal change would be realised. Yes, my beloved friends, on you it depends, under God, whether this goodly inheritance shall be preserved or destroyed; whether the morals, the religion, the good order and freedom which now so happily prevail in the community, shall be continued, or give place to profligacy, to irreligion, and wild misrule.

4. While you aim to fulfil the duties which you owe to society,

you take the most effectual measures to promote your own respectability and happiness. The young man of inconsideration and thoughtlessness, of gaiety and fashion, may shine and sparkle for a little moment; and during that moment, he may be the admiration, and perhaps envy, of persons as vain and thoughtless as himself. But he soon passes the season of gaiety and mirth, and what is he then? A worthless, neglected cipher in society. His present course of life has no reference to the scenes and duties of riper years. His youth is entirely disconnected from his manhood. It is a portion of his existence which he throws away; and perhaps worse than throws away, because he contracts habits which unfit him for sober life, and cleave to him as an enfeebling, disgusting disease, all his days.

Beaux and fops, and the whole pleasure-loving fraternity, are short-lived creatures. They look pretty in the gay sunshine of summer; but, poor things! they cannot endure the approach of autumn and winter. They have their little hour of enjoyment, and that is the end of them.

On the other hand, the young man who seriously considers the nature and design of his being; who shuns the society and flees the amusements of the thoughtless and the vicious; who devotes his vacant hours to the improvement of his mind and heart, and aims at the acquisition of those habits and virtues which may qualify him for the duties of life,-such a young man cannot fail to rise in respectability, in influence, and honour.

His virtues and attainments make room for him in society, and draw around him the confidence and respect, the affection and support, of all worthy and good men. The pursuits of his youth bear directly on the enjoyments and usefulness of his manhood. There is no waste of his existence; no contraction of bad habits to obscure the meridian or darken the decline of life. The course upon which he enters, like the path of the just, shines brighter and brighter unto the perfect day. This motive, my young friends, you cannot duly consider without feeling its constraining influence. You are all in the pursuit of happiness; you all desire the esteem and respect of your fellow-men. Here is the way, and the only way, to attain it. An enlightened mind, a virtuous character, a useful life;-these are the dignity and the glory of man. They make him lovely in the sight of angels and God; and secure for him present peace and everlasting happiness.

5. Consider, again, how pleasant will be the retrospect of past life, if you faithfully serve God and your generation according to his will. It is but a little time, before you, who are young, will be looking upon a generation rising up to take your places, just as the fathers are now looking upon you. You will soon pass the meridian of life, and be going down its decline to the invisible world. Consider that time as come-as present. Think of yourselves as retiring from the scene of action; your heads whitened with the snows of age, and your limbs stiffened with the frosts of winter. O, how cheering to be able now to look back upon a life of beneficent and useful action; a life spent in the service of God and for the good of mankind! How pleasant and consoling to reflect, that you have done your duty as members of society, and have sustained, honourably, the great interests that were committed to you! How animating, too, the prospect before you,-how glorious the anticipations of the future! All the great interests of society safe; all its institutions secure and flourishing; a generation rising up under the influence of your example and training, intelligent, virtuous, enterprising; prepared to fill your places, and carry on the system of human affairs. To them you commend all that you hold most dear on earth,-the high interests of the church and society,-happy in the assurance, that they will sustain the sacred trust, and transmit the precious inheritance entire to those who shall come after them. To a mind gladdened with such reflections and prospects, how bright and benignant shines the sun of declining life? The shades of evening gather around him in peace; he reposes in joyful hope, and all his powers are invigorated and cheered by the delightful visions that burst upon his view.

And now, in view of the whole, may I not hope, that ere you rise from your seats, and in every future emergency of life, prompted by the warm impulse of duty, you will raise to heaven the expressive prayer,

"Father of light and life! Thou good supreme !

O teach me what is good! Teach me Thyself!
Save me from folly, vanity, and vice,
From every low pursuit! And feed my soul
With knowledge, conscious peace, and virtue pure;
Sacred, substantial, never-fading bliss."

TALKATIVENESS.

A talkative fellow is like an unbraced drum, which beats a wise man out of his wits. Surely nature did not guard the tongue with the double fence of teeth and lips, but that she meant it should not move too nimbly. I like in Isocrates, when of a scholar full of words he asked a double fee: one to learn him to speak well, another to teach him to hold his peace.-Owen | Feltham.

ANECDOTE OF A TERRIER.

At Dunrobin Castle, in Sutherlandshire, the northern seat of the Duke of Sutherland, there was, in May, 1820, to be seen a terrier-bitch nursing a brood of ducklings. She had had a litter of whelps a few weeks before, which were taken from her and drowned. The unfortunate mother was quite disconsolate, till she perceived the brood of ducklings, which she immediately seized and carried off to her lair, where she retained them, following them out and in with the greatest attention, and nursing them, after her own fashion, with the most affectionate anxiety. When the ducklings, following their natural instinct, went into the water, their foster-mother exhibited the utmost alarm and as soon as they returned to land, she snatched them up in her mouth and ran home with them. What adds to the singularity of the circumstance is, that the same animal, when deprived of a litter of puppies the following year, seized two cock-chickens, which she reared with the like care she bestowed on her former family. When the young cocks began to try their voices, their foster-mother was as much annoyed as she formerly seemed to be by the swimming of the ducklings, and never failed to repress their attempts at crowing.-Brown's Anecdotes of Dogs.

RECREATION.

Make thy recreation servant to thy business, lest thou become slave to thy recreation. When thou goest up into the mountain, leave this servant in the valley; when thou goest to the city, leave him in the suburbs, and remember the servant must not be greater than the master.-Quarles.

INDIAN INK.

The Chinese, or, as it is miscalled, Indian ink has been erroneously supposed to consist of the secretion of a species of sepia, or cuttle-fish. It is, however, all manufactured from lamp-black and gluten, with the addition of a little musk to give it a more agreeable odour. Père Coutancin gave the following as a process for making the ink:-A number of lighted wicks are put into a vessel full of oil; over this is hung a dome or funnel-shaped cover of iron, at such a distance as to receive the smoke. When well coated with lamp-black, this is brushed off and collected upon paper; it is then well mixed in a mortar with a solution of gum or gluten, and when reduced to the consistence of paste, is put into little moulds, where it receives those shapes and impressions with which it comes to this country. It is occasionally manufactured in a great variety of forms and sizes, and stamped with ornamental devices, either plain or in gold and various colours.-The Chinese, by J. F. Davies.

CHEERFULNESS.

A cheerful companion is a treasure; and all will gather around you as such if you are faithful to yourself; exercise will make you cheerful, and cheerfulness will make friends.-Todd's Student's Manual.

ECONOMY.

All to whom want is terrible, upon whatever principle, ought to think themselves obliged to learn the sage maxims of our parsimonious ancestors, and attain the salutary art of contracting expense; for without economy none can be rich, and with it few can be poor. The mere power of saving what is already in our hands must be of easy acquisition to every mind; and as the example of Lord Bacon may show that the highest intellect cannot safely neglect it, a thousand instances every day prove that the humblest may practise it with success.-Rambler.

DANGERS OF SOLITUDE.

He had need to be well underlaid that knows how to entertain himself with his own thoughts. Company, variety of employments or recreations may wear out the day with the emptiest hearts; but when a man has no society but of himself, no task to set himself upon but what arises from his own bosom, surely, if he have not a good stock of former notions, or an inward mint of new, he shall soon run out of all, and, as some forlorn bankrupt, grow weary of himself.-Bishop Hall.

UNIVERSAL ATTRIBUTES OF WOMEN.

I have observed among all nations that the women ornament themselves more than the men; that wherever found they are the same kind, civil, obliging, humane, tender beings; that they are ever inclined to be gay and cheerful, timorous and modest. They do not hesitate, like men, to perform a hospitable or generous action; not haughty nor arrogant, nor supercilious, but full of courtesy, and fond of society; industrious, economical, ingenuous; nore liable in general to err than man, but in general, also, more virtuous, and performing more good actions than he. I never addressed myself, in the language of decency and friendship, to a woman, whether civilised or savage, without receiving a decent and friendly answer. With man it has often been otherwise. In wandering over the barren plains of inhospitable Denmark, through honest Sweden, frozen Lapland, rude and churlish Finland, unprincipled Russia, and the wide-spread regions of the wandering Tartar, if hungry, dry, cold, wet, or sick, woman has ever been friendly to me, and uniformly so; and to add to this virtue, so worthy of the appellation of benevolence, these actions have been performed in so free and kind a manner, that, if I was dry, I drank the sweet draught, and if hungry, ate the coarse morsel with a double relish.-Ledyard's Siberian Journal.

SECRETS OF COMFORT.

Though sometimes small evils, like invisible insects, inflict pain, and a single hair may stop a vast machine, yet the chief secret of comfort lies in not suffering trifles to vex one, and in prudently cultivating an undergrowth of small pleasures, since very few great ones, alas! are let on long leasesSharp's Essays.

THE GRATEFUL BONZE.

A mandarin, who took much pride in appearing with a number of jewels on every part of his robe, was once accosted by an old sly bonze, who, following him through several streets and bowing often to the ground, thanked him for his jewels. "What does the man mean?" cried the mandarin. "Friend, I never gave thee any of my jewels." "No," replied the other, "but you have let me look at them, and that is all the use you can make of them yourself; so there is no difference between us, except that you have the trouble of watching them, and that is an employment I do not much desire." Goldsmith's Citizen of the World.

ANTS OF GUIANA.

In the far-extending wilds of Guiana, the traveller will be astonished at the immense quantity of ants which he perceives on the ground and in the trees. They have nests in the branches four or five times as large as that of the rook, and they have a covered-way from them to the ground. In this covered-way thousands are perpetually passing and repassing, and if you destroy part of it, they turn to and immediately repair it. Other species of ants, again, have no covered-way, but travel, exposed to view, upon the surface of the earth. You will sometimes see a string of these ants a mile long, each carrying in its mouth to its nest a green leaf, the size of a sixpence. It is wonderful to observe the order in which they move, and with what pains and labour they surmount the obstructions of the path.-Waterton.

CAPABILITY GREATER THAN PERFORMANCE.

Men are often capable of greater things than they perform. They are sent into the world with bills of credit, and seldom draw to their full extent.— Horace Walpole.

EARLY COMMERCE OF BRITAIN.

At the time of the invasion, the Romans flattered themselves with the hope of conquering an island of which the shores abounded with pearls, and the soil with orcs of the more precious metals. Their avarice was, however, defeated. Of gold or silver not the smallest trace was discovered; nor were the British pearls of a size or colour which could reward the labour of the collector. Yet the invasion produced one advantage to the natives. They sought, and at last discovered, ores of the very metals after which Roman avarice had so anxiously but fruitlessly inquired; and the British exports, at the commencement of the Christian era, comprised, if we may credit a contemporary and well-informed writer, corn and cattle, gold and silver, tin, lead, and iron, skins, slaves, and dogs.-Lingard.

THE IMAGINATION.

The faculty of imagination is the great spring of human activity, and the principal source of human improvement. As it delights in presenting to the mind scenes and characters more perfect than those which we are acquainted with, it prevents us from ever being completely satisfied with our present condition, or with our past attainments; and engages us continually in the pursuit of some untried enjoyment, or of some ideal excellence. Hence the ardour of the selfish to better their fortunes, and to add to their personal accomplishments; and hence the zeal of the patriot and the philosopher to advance the virtue and the happiness of the human race. Destroy this faculty, and the condition of man will become as stationary as that of the brutes.-Dugald Stewart.

A FEW WORDS-TO THE WISE.

A few words may encourage the benevolent passions, and may dispose people to live in peace and happiness;-a few words may set them at variance, and may lead to misery.-Miss Edgworth.

DIFFERENCE BETWEEN SPEAKING AND WRITING.

A good speaker cannot fail to be at least a tolerable writer; waiving, as he must then do, all the personal and physical elements of figure, voice, manner, &c. that might go to constitute in part his oratorical excellence. But the faculty of writing is one that may grow up in the shade; many a man strong on paper, might go forth from his closet, and prove himself a mere child in the senate, at the bar, or on the hustings.

MEASURE YOUR STRENGTH.

I had been passing a day at St. Omer, on my way to Paris. To while away the time, to deliver myself from the tediousness of an inn, I had been playing draughts, drinking coffee, and discussing all sorts of subjects with a young Englishman, intended, I believe, for a physician, who had been edu. cated abroad from his childhood. In the course of our conference, quite gratuitously, and without the smallest provocation on my part, he began to talk downright infidelity. I accepted his challenge, unadvisedly, for I was unequal to the contest. He had studied the subject, was conversant with the main arguments, had got up a variety of points upon it; and besides he was readier with his words than myself, and probably, with his wits also. On the whole, I was no match for him. We were long and deep in the discussion; it was only just as I was about to start, that he went away, and left me with my whole mind in a ferment.-Self-Formation.

London: WILLIAM SMITH, 113, Fleet Street. Edinburgh: FRASER & Co. Dublin: CURRY & Co.-Printed by Bradbury & Evans, Whitefriars.