his silky lashes; but fear not, Julia, angels watch sir, because they cannot know how dreadful it is while love and mirth seemed to hover around each over thy baby brother; weep not, at the reinein. to be hungry." dimple. It was with some difficulty that the lady brance of that taunting word-all are beggars, "True-too true, my poor child, but come could keep pace with her little guide through the when bowing at the footstool of sovereign mercy-along with me, and your little basket shall be dense crowd, for her little half naked feet seemed then, Julia, the poor and the humble will not be filled." to skim the pavement without leaving a foot-print turned empty away. -now darting onward between the occasional openings of the moving crowd, then turning to catch a glimpse of her new-made friend, and make sure of her presence. Soon they were free from the press of people, and Mrs. Reed found herself in the most degraded portion of Orange-street.

"O, thank you, sir, it would make my sick mother so happy."

"Your mother, then, is ill ?”

"Yes sir, but I hope she is getting better.. When she is well she sews for the shops; then sir, we have bread enough-and a nice fire too. Then we are not beggars."

"Mother dear, have I been long away? But see I have a nice warm roll for you, and buttered too, that a dear little girl gave me; but ah! it is cold now, and all covered with snow," she exclaimed mournfully, as she brushed it lightly with her hand, and laid it on a cracked plate, on a little table by her mother's bedside. "And Lizzy, love, this is for you, I picked it from the-" she checked herself with the consideration of one of riper years-sister "you love potatoes, don't you, dear? but stop, I eat." do believe it is frozen. Go and warm it by Mrs. O'Brady's fire; she will let you, if you ask her prettily-go, sister."

Lizzy crept under the curtain that formed the only partition between the two apartinents, and readily obtained the desired permission.

"What have you for yourself, my child?" inquired the mother, in a feeble voice.

"O, I will go out again, nother, as soon as I have warmed baby's blanket-I am not much hungry. Will you take your gruel now, mother ?" "Yes, dear, but I cannot eat the biscuit; keep that yourself, Julia."

"How many are there of you?"

Five, sir. The dear little baby and mother,
Lizzy and myself. But baby is too little to

"And your father," said the gentleman, as he gazed upon the sweet countenance of his little com panion.

My father, sir?"

you

"Yes, child; you said there were five of
yet you named but four; who is the fifth ?"
Little Frederick is the fifth, sir-but I named
him first because I love him so dearly."
"Then who is the first one?"

"Here is my home, lady; will you please to walk in ?" said Julia with a grace that might have put to shame some of higher pretensions. Mrs. Reed followed the child through the dirty alley, into a miserably damp and dingy cellar, which appeared too loathsome and gloomy even for a condemned felou's cell. There, upon a poor pallet of straw, lay the mother of Julia. An infant of some seven weeks old was moaning by her side. Upon a broken stand at the head of the miserable bed, lay a well-worn bible, and empty plate and a bowl of gruel. Upon the foot of the bed lay a little child about four years old, asleep, Her feet and arms were bare, but her fair round

"I am the eldest, sir-my name is Julia; I neck was covered by a profusion of soft wavy curls was eight last May." that had evident! been arranged with care. The "Julia, is your father living ?" he asked, looking poor woman made an effort to rise, as little Julia the child full in the face. presented the kind stranger, but her strength would not premit. We have not time to speak of the gratitude she felt for the interest taken in her behalf.

again."

No, mother, I do not much like butter, you "O, I hope so, sir-if he should die in that know, so let me crumb it into the warm gruel-dreadful prison, we could never, never be happy that will be nice. May I give baby just a little, mother? O, how much I love you, darling," she exclaimed, as she pressed the little dimpled one to her bosom. "Mother, do you not think Eugenia would be a sweet name for baby ?-'tis the name of the little girl who gave me that nice buttered roll for you?"

The sick mother smiled sadly—" We will call him Frederic Eugene, if you like, my love-Eugenia is a girl's name."

Here the tears rolled down her blushing cheeks, and the gentleman hall regretting his pertinacity, rung at the door of a small but respectable looking building in Franklin-street. He was admitted by a young woman with a sweet voice, and a happy face, in which the smiles were blended with a look of surprise, as she caught a glimpse of the little beggar" by her husband's side.

66

Her story may be told in a few words. It is neither new nor strange. Mrs. Barton, the mother of Julia, was a portionless orphan, and a seamstress. She was united, early in life, to a young physician, whose only capital was a spotless reputation, and whose only dependence was his profession, and a firm belief in the unerring guidance of an unseen hand. For a few short

"What have you forgotten, Edward ?—or rather happy years fortune smiled upon them. Two

“O, so it is, mother; yes, Frederic is poor whom have you found?" father's name-it must be Frederic."

A few moments of silence ensued. A warm kiss was pressed upon the infant's lips, a few hot tears bathed its brow, a tattered blanket, warmed at a borrowed fire, was wrapped carefully around the mother's weak, emaciated form, and the little babe was laid upon her bosom. Julia bent over the humble couch, kissed again and again her mother's pale brow, then taking her little basket, daited like a bird into the street.

The winds had now died away, and the sun was fast melting the frost and ice from panes and pave. ment; the streets were thronged with the busy community who had now ventured forth, half regretting perhaps, that an excuse no longer remained for a comfortable lounge within. The little girl tripped lightly on in her accustomed route-but stopping suddenly, she said half aloud: "I will not ask of the rich and happy, for mother said they did not know how to feel for the poor, because they have never known want themselves." Quick as thought she turned upon her heel, and encountered a tall gentleman who extended his hand to check her speed.

"What were you saying, my little girl?" he asked, as he kindly stooped to hear her reply. The child blushed and hesitated. "Never fear," said he, "to speak the truth." "I said I would not ask for bread of the rich,

"I have found this little Julia, who is both cold and hungry-and I promised her that her basket should be filled with food for her sick mother."

The lady smiled sweetly as the gentleman bowed-and turned away. The astonished child received thankfully the bowl of chocolate, and plate of toast, from the hand of the lady, but still she declined tasting it.

You do not like chocolate, Julia ?"

"O yes, ma'am-but I would rather carry it home to my mother-if you will be so kind as to permit me?"

lovely children blessed this union, but from the birth of the second, sorrow brooded over them. The protracted illness of Mrs. Barton was followed by that of her husband, who lay for some time on the confines of the tomb. At length their prayers were heard and answered. Health was again restored to them, but from that time poverty threatened their peace. Debts had been contracted -practice lost-and creditors began to tremble. Their furniture was sold to satisfy their demands, but all would not do. No security could be given -no bail procured-and the uufortunate man was thrown into prison. His afflicted companion had no time to yield to grief. She knew that her children could no longer receive their food from a Gratitude sparkled in the eyes of little Julia, but father's hand, and she now applied herself to her she could not speak her thanks. She was left to needle with an application she had never before the enjoyment of her meal, by the warm fire- done. But the day and the night were scarce long while Mrs. Reed filled her basket with provisions enough for her to earn a bare subsistence; so for her mother; after which she returned to the pitiful were the wages she received. Still, she breakfast room, clad in readiness for a walk.-labored on, in hope and love, till that sorrowful Julia had despatched her meal, and seemed much hour arrived when little Frederic, that child of refreshed. many tears, was laid weeping on her bosom. "Now," said the kind lady, "I will go with you Then-then indeed, were her sorrows too heavy to to see your mother." be borne. But that unshaken confidence in an all-wise Governor of the universe still upheld her, and "Hope thou in me," was the finale to each sad foreboding.

"O yes but drink that yourself, and you shall have more for your mother."

Mr. and Mrs. Reed was not of that class of
persons who "
sound a trumpet before them,"
nor from men did they seek for praise-would to
heaven their number were greater. Suffice it to
say that the "prison doors were opened," and
the" oppressed set free. The naked were clothed
and the hungry fed." Friends were united, and
sorrowful hearts made to rejoice. It may not be
deemed expedient to give indiscriminately to beg-
gars of
every grade-but think you that those
messengers of love and mercy will regret their
charity when that sweet sentence of commendation
shall fall upon their ears-Inasmuch as ye have
done it unto the least of these, ye have done it unto
me."

MISCELLANY.

FINE BUT NOT FIRM THEORY.

of warmth, sustenance, and repose, are derived
from this interesting source. This theory had a
fair run, until some one happened to reply, that all
who were brought up by hand, had derived their first
pleasurable sensations from a very different source,
and yet, that not one of all these, had ever been
known to evince any very rapturous or amatory
emotions, at the sight of a wooden spoon!!

PRINTERS AND PRINTING.

gratification that we owe whatever happiness existence can afford.

and

on the

THE USE OF THE BOTTLE. "In the bottle," as Dr. Johnson observes, "discontent seeks for comfort cowardice for courage, and bashfulness for confidence." In a word, the whole man, mind and body, is elevated by the use of vinous liquors in all his qualities and functions, far above the accustomed powers naturally inherent J. T. BUCKINGHAM, in his series of reminisences, in his constitution. This state of inordinate in course of publication in the Boston Courier, excitement manifests itself in various ways, in speaks of the importance of the printer to the author, different in dividuals, and also under the influence as follows:-"Many who condescend to illumi- of different species of liquor. Thus, intoxication nate the dark world with the fire of their genius, from drinking porter, or other malt liquors, which through the columns of a newspaper, little think of contain the narcotic substance of the hop, or other the lot of the printer, who, almost suffocated by the vegetables, together with much mucilaginous smoke of a lamp, sits up till midnight to correct matter, and require to be drunk in large quantities, his false grammar, or bad orthography, and worse is generally accompanied with more of stupor than punctuation. I have eeen the arguments of lawyers, the inebriation occasioned by distilled spirits; and THEORY is worth but little, unless it can explain in high repute as scholars, sent to the printer in the same may be said of the heavier wines, as its own phenomena, and it must effect this without their own hand-writing, many words, and especi. compared with the lighter, or those which contain contradicting itself; therefore, the facts are some-ally technical and foreign terms, abreviated, mis- carbonic acid gas. But the variety of the symptimes assimilated to the theory, rather than the spelled and entirely out of place. I have seen the toms of drunkenness depends much more on the theory to the facts. Most theorists may be com. natural disposition, sermons of eminent "divines," sent to the press corporeal pared to the grandfather of the great Frederick, without points or capitals to designate the division temperament of the individual, then on the species who was wont to amuse himself, during his fits of of sentences; sermon, which if published with of the liquors. We thus see some, in their cups, the gout, by painting likenesses of his grenadiers, the imperfections of the manuscript, would disgrace mild and gentle; while others are fierce and if the picture did not happen to resemble the grena- the Printer's Devil, if he were the author. Suppose implacable. This one is complaisant to his enemy, dier, he settled the matter by painting the grenadier they had been so printed. The printer would have and forgetful of injury; that is insulting to his to the picture. To change the illustration, we been treated with scorn and contempt, as an illiter-friend, and thoughtful of revenge. This person might say, that theories may be admired for the ate blockhead-as a fellow better fitted to be a is gay and loquacious; that one is dull, sullen, ingenuity that has been displayed in building wood sawyer than a printer.—Nobody would have and silent; and a third is turbulent and loud, them; but they are better for a lodging than a believed that such gross and palpable faults were making the place of his orgies echo with oaths habitation, because the scaffolding is often stronger owing to the ignorance or carelessness of the author. and imprecations. As in other species of insanity, than the house, and the prospects continually liable And no one but the pratical printer, knows how the inebriated feel not the blush of shame, and the to be built out by some opposite speculator; neither many hours a compositor, and after him a proof habitual drunkard degrades himself below the are these structures very safe in stormy weather, reader, is compelled to spend in reducing to a read- brute which he imitates. and are in need of constant repair, which can nev. able condition, manuscripts that the writers thener be accomplished without much trouble and al-selves would be puzzled to read." ways at a great expense of truth. Of modern theorists, Gall and Spurzheim are too ridiculous even to be laughed at; we admire Locke and Hartley, for the profundity and ingenuity of their illustra tions; and Lavater for his plausibility; but none of them for their solidity. Locke, however, was an exception to this paradox so generally to be observed in theorists, who, like Lord Monboddo, are the most credulous of men with respect to what confirms theory, but perfect infidels as to any facts that oppose it. Mr. Locke, I believe, had no opinions which he would not most readly exchange for truth. A traveller showed Lavater two portraits; the one of a highwayman who had been broken upon a wheel, the other was the portrait of Kant the philosopher; he was desired to distin. guish between them. Lavater took up the portrait of the highwayman, after attentively considering it for some time, "Here," says he, "we have the true philosopher, here is penetration in the eye, and reflection in the forehead; here is cause, and there is effect; here is combination, there is distinction; synthetic lips! and an analytie nose!" Then turning to the portrait of the philosopher, he exclaims, "The calm thinking villain is so well expressed, and so strongly marked in this countenance, that it needs no comment." This anecdote Kant used to tell with great glee. Dr. Darwin informs us, that the reason why the bosom of a beautiful woman is an object of such peculiar delight, arises from hence; that all our first pleasurable sensations

PISED.

of the last to be thought the first; and so it happens, as gooseberry wine is occasionally taken for champagne aud by some esteemed the better tipple that mankind, with eyes blinded by the meretricious rays of a mock sun, give one the credit of being a profound genius, who in truth, possesses only a somewhat more than ordinary share of talent. But talent is a very useful possession in its way, as it enables its fortunate owner to lay up, sometimes, riches for himself; and wealth, by most, is considered the end of life; and, while, genius is singing and soaring, like a lark, at the gate of heaven, talent, like a mold, is digging and delving in the dark carth; and, not unlike the mole, it burrows with a purpose, and the purpose mostly is the attainment of comfortable quarters.

GENIUS AND TALENT. GENIUS is a poet. Talent a lawyer: the one ANIMAL PLEASURES NOT TO BE DES- struggles and strives in a garret, while the other lives in a great house and sports his pretty person THERE are a class of men who, under an affecta-in a coach and four. And yet it is the ambition tion of moral and intellectual refinement, assume to regard eating, as though as little time as possible should be appropriated. But let us remember that we yet dwell in the flesh, and cannot, therefore, become wholly spiritualized. Those actions which nature has enjoined as necessary to our constitution are fortunately-and, indeed, the species, with its present laws, could not otherwise have been preserved-associated with enjoyment. It is the part of wisdom, therefore, not to despise, neither slavishly to pursue, the corporeal pleasures, put to accept of them with thankfulness, and to partake of them with prudence. The gratification of all our appetites contributes, both directly to health and happiness: it is their abuse only that is reprehensible, and followed by pain and regret. How many delightful association, how many springs of domestic enjoyment, flow from the reg ularly returning social meal!-an occasion which brings into so near and happy intercourse families and friends, and serves to draw more closely among them the bonds of human affection. He alone who has been deprived of such pleasure can rightly estimate its value. A purely intellec ual being would be monstrous to humanity. There belongs to our nature, sensual, mortal, and intellectual wants; and it is to the wise and duly apportioned

HABITS.

HABITS of thought and desire-often produced in us by the operation of a long train of ruling circumstances-overbear the natural bent of the mind, and lead us to a course of life, and to innumerable actions, utterly inharmonious with the original tone of the character. It is so, and there is scarcely any man who is not thus walled in by circumstances in his course; scarcely any tree that, however upright its original shoot, is not bent

by the prevailing wind. Nevertheless, when the mind is left free from the habitual influences when the passions that have been indulged are not called into play-when the desires that have usurped a sway over us, are for a time without either object or opposition, the original character of the mind indulges itself for a brief space, like a prisoner allowed a few moments of free air.

as yet, either by the divine or the philosopher, for
the track is discovorable only by the shipwrecks
that have been made in the attempt. John Wesley
quaintly observed, that the road to heaven was a
narrow path, not intended for wheels, and that
to ride in a coach here, and to go to heaven
hereafter, was a happiness too much for man.

* Yet honest John rode in his own coach before he died.

GAIN OF A LOSS.

THE follow circumstance actually occurred in Dublin a short time since. Mr. L was much attached to Miss C—, the young, beautiful, and accomplished heiress to a property of some fifteen thousand per annum; but being himself lord of no other earthly possesssions than talents and good looks, he never told his love, fearing not only a refusal on the part of the lady to reciprocate the sentiment, but of probable imputation of mercenary movtives by her friends.

neighbour, by roasting his body for the good of his soul. Can a darkness which is intellectual, be done away by a fire which is material? or is it absolutely uccessary to maka a fagot of a man's body in order to enlighten his mind.

MEN HAVE TWO EYES BUT ONE
TONGUE.

MEN are born with two eyes, but with one tongue, in order that they should see twice as much as they say; but, from their conduct one would suppose that they were born with two tongues, and one eye; for those talk the most, who have observed the least, and obtrude their remarks upon every thing, who have seen into nothing.

FOOLISH ANTICIPATIONS. MEN spend their lives in anticipations, in determining to be vastly happy at some period or other, when they have time. But the present time has one advantage over every other-it is our own.Past opportunities are gone, future are not come.We may lay in a stock of pleasures, as we would lay in a stock of wine; but if we defer tasting them too long, we shall find that both are soured by age. Let our happiness, therefore, be a modest mansion, which we can inhabit while we have our health and vigour to enjoy it; në a fabric, so vast Miss C- however, had sufficient peneand expensive that it has cost us the best part of tration to discover the genuine and disinterested our lives to build it, and which we can expect to affection of the young man, the highly praiseworthy occupy only when we have less occasion for a habi-sensitiveness which caused him to shrink from its tation than a tomb. It has been well observed, avowal. She was by no means indisposed to that we should treat futurity as an aged friend, encourage his suit, but the consciousness of his friends, of which we never complain, is our funeral ;

from whom we expect a rich legacy. Let us do

comparative poverty rendered more than the

LABOURED letters, written like those of Pope, yet apparently in all the ease of private confidence, but which the writer meant one day to publish, may be compared to that dishabille in which a beauty would wish you to believe you have surprised her, after spending three hours at her toilet.

THE only kind office performed for us by our

and the only thing which we

are surc to want

nothing to forfeit his esteem, and treat him with ordinary encouragement given by a lady to her happens to be the only thing which we never pur

respect, not with servility. But let us not be too prodigal when we are young, nor too parsimonious

when we are old, otherwise we shall fall into the common error of those, who, when they had the power to enjoy, had not the prudence to acquire; and when they had the prudence to acquire, had no longer the power to enjoy.

MANY MEN NEITHER BAD NOR GOOD. THERE are some who write, talk and think, so much about vice and virtue, that they have no time to practise, either the one or the other.* They die with less sin to answer for than some others, because they have been too busy in disputing about the origin of it, to commit it; and with little or no religion of their own, from their constant though unavailing assiduities to settle that of other men. Charles the Fifth, after his abdication, amused himself in his retirement at St. Juste, by attempting to make a number of watches go exactly together.Being constantly foiled in this attempt he exclaimed, "What a fool have I been, to neglect my own concerns, and to waste my whole life in a vain attempt to make all men think alike on matters of religion, when I cannot even make a few watches keep time together!

suitor, necessary to stimulate his courage to
propound the decisive inquiry. How was she, then,
to give expression to her sentiments regarding
him, without at the same time overstepping the
bounds of" maiden modesty ?" She proposed a
game of cards.

"For what stake shall we play ?" asked Mr.
L.

chase-our coffin.

THE gamester, if he die a martyr to his profession, is doubly ruined. He adds his soul to every other loss, and by the act of suicide, renounces earth to forfeit heaven.

VALUABLE RECIPES.

"There's my stake," said the lady, laying down LABOR SAVING SOAP.-Take two pounds of sal-soda, two a sovereign; if you win, you win the sovereign-pounds of yellow bar soap and ten quarts of water. Cut the if I win, I win yourself. I am aware I have no soup in thin slices, and boil together two hours, strain and it will be fit for use. Put the clothes in soak the night before chance of winning though, against so expert a you wash, and to every pail of water in which you boil them, add a pound of soup. They will need no rubbing, merely playet." rinse them out, and they will be perfectly clean and white.

PERSECUTORS OFTEN HYPOCRITES. PERSECUTORS Oon the score of religion, have, in general, been the foulest of hypocrites, and their burning zeal has too often been lighted up at the altar of worldly ambition. Suppose we admit that persecution may, in some solitary cases, have aris. en from motives that are pure; the glory of God, and the salvation of men. Here again, the purity HEAVEN, THE ROAD TO IT, TOO NAR- of the motive is most wofully eclipsed by the gross

*The great Howard, on the contrary, was so fully engaged in works of active benevolence, that, unlike Baxter, whose knees were callous by prayer, he left himself but little time to pray. Thousands were praying for him.

ROW FOR WHEELS.

absurdity of the means. The persecutor must It has been said, that men carry on a kind of begin by beaking many fundamental laws of his coasting trade with religion. In the voyage of master, in order to commence his operations in his life, they profess to be in search of heaven, but favour; thus asserting, by deeds, if not by words, take care not to venture so far in their approxi- that the intrinsic excellence of the code of our mations to it, as entirely to lose sight of the earth; Saviour, is insufficient for its own preservation. and should their frail vessel be in danger of ship-Thus it is, that even the sincerest persecutor wreck, they will gladly throw their darling vices overboard, as other mariners their treasures, only to fish them up again when the storm is over. To steer a course that shall secure both worlds, is still I fear, a desideratum in ethics, a thing unattained

defends the cause of his master. He shows his
love of man, by breaking his cardinal laws; he
then seeks to glorify a God of mercy, by worship-
ping him as a Moloch who delights in human
sacrifices; and lastly, he shows his love of his

CEMENT FOR STOVE PIPES.-Cracks in stoves and pipes may be closed by a paste made of sult, ashes and waterIron filings. sal ammonia and water, makes a harder and more durable cement.

Letters Containing Remittances, Received at this Office, ending Wednesday last, deducting the amount of postage paid.

W. C. H. Schuylers Lake, N. Y. $5,00; P. O. C. Baldwinsville, N. Y. $1 00 : D. H. Jackson Corners, N. Y. $!.00; A. B. C. Cruso, N. Y. $5,00; S. M. G. Middlefield, N. Y. $1 00; P. M. Lakeville, Ct. $4.00; Miss M. A.C Mishawaka, lud. $1,00; Miss L. A. M. South Corinth, N. Y. $1,00.

MARRIAGES.

In this city, on the 25th ult. by the Rev. H. Darling. Mr.
James C. Gifford, of Boston, to Miss Clarinda Marshall, of
Hudson.

Hobby, to Miss Delia Burdwin, both of this city.
On the 19th ult. by the Rev. Henry Darling, Mr. Walter

By the Rev. Dr. Gosman, Stephen Vallett to Caroline Hall, both of Hudson.

At Claverack, on the 19th ult. by the Rev. Mr. Collins, Mr. Wm. H. Crapser of this city, to Miss Sarah only daughter of Samuel S. Miller, Esq. of the former place.

www

G

A Semi-monthly Bournal, Embellished with Engravings.

ONE DOLLAR PER ANNUM.

VOLUME XXVI.

W. B. STODDARD, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR.

HUDSON, N. Y. SATURDAY, MARCH 16, 1850.

TALES.

For the Rural Repository.

WILLIAM BROWN,

Or, the Reward of Virtue.

BY ALIDA.

is very much against me, being so slightly formed
and as yet, I have met with no success. I do wish
you would take me, sir," continued he, gathering
courage as he spoke, "I am always well and
healthy, and think I can do, all that will be re-
quired of me."

"Lam willing to take you, my lad, but have you pondered the subject well? Do you know the Ir was a pleasant Spring morning. The waters temptation that will beset you-the dangers, and of the beautiful harbor of Boston, sparkled joyous- hardships you must endure?" and the voice of the ly in the sunbeams. Capt. H was reclining Capt. that has wont to be heard above the tempest upon a sofa in his richly furnished cabin. This blast, was now as low and soft, as that of a WOwas indeed a beautiful apartment-nothing that man; for he thought of the time, when, like that wealth could rocure or taste beautify, had been poor boy before him, he sought the life of a sailor spared to decorate this large and elegant ship.--had lived in the forecastle, the slave of all on Capt. Hwas interrupted in his reading by board the ship; and as he gazed upon this unso. the entrance of a servant saying, that a boy with-phisticated child, he felt it his duty to warn him of out was very desirous to speak with him. the dangers that lay before him. "And now,' said he in conclusion, "if you still wish to go to sea, I will take you, but as a much younger boy would fill, your place, you must bo content with small wages for the present."

"Did he give you his name?" asked the cap.

tain.

"No," replied the man, "but I will ask him for it."

"Never mind, let him come in."

The man soon came back, followed by a pale, sad looking boy, apparently about fifteen years of age. Tears stood in his large, blue eyes, as he approached the Capt. and though he thrice essayed to speak, the words still died upon his lips.

"Well my boy, what would you have with me?" inquired the Capt. kindly.

"I would like to go to sea," replied he, falteringly.

The boy thanked him gratefully, gave his name as William Brown, and with a lighter, happier heart, started for his country home.

A beautiful Spring day, was drawing to a close. The sun was fast receding behind the western hills, gilding with its parting rays, the tops of the many tombstones, which graced the village church yard.

By the side of an humble grave, with no monument save a small willow, that had been recently

To sea!-you look hardly strong enough to en-placed there, two seemed to be very busily engaged counter the hardships, of a sailor's life. I fear you have not given the subject due reflection-have you my boy."

"I have thought of it many months, or at least, ever since my mother died," replied he, casting his eyes upon the floor.

"Then you have no Mother?"

"No sir. She died several months ago." "Have you any Father?"

"Yes sir, I have a Father, but he " "But what?"

watering and pruning the few flowers that grew at
the head of the loved one's grave.

"When I am gone," said the elder to his com-
panion, a fair young girl, whose dress betokened a
child of wealthy parents, " you will not forget to
water these flowers every evening-will you
Adele ?"

"No, William, I shall not forget it, for have I not promised you a great many times, that I would watch these flowers, as though they were my own, and do you think I shall soon forget my prom

He is a-he drinks," said the boy in confu- ise?"

"I know Adele you have promised me many times, but I shall so miss this dear spot when I am away at sea."

"Oh dear! I wish you were not going to sea, William, replied she sadly, "for now you will learn to swear and fight, and will wear such funny looking clothes too, just like those sailors that passed our house last Summer."

PAYABLE IN ADVANCE.

NUMBER 12.

"I shall never swear, or fight." said William"I can refrain from evil upon the sea, as well as though I were upon the land, with the assistance of God."

"Well, I suppose you can," said she musingly, "but you will want a bible William have you any bible?

"No, Adele, I have no bible now, but the first money I get, I shall purchase me one. We have nothing but the large bible, that mother used to read so much and that is too heavy to carry with mie."

"Here is one Willlam," said she, taking a small red morocco covered bible, from her pocket; I always get my sunday school lesson out of it, but I can use another, and you may have this." "Oh! thank you, thank you, a thousand times," replied he, scizing the little treasure, and pressing it to his lips, "I will always keep it in rememberance of you, Adele; I will never part with it, but with my life; but see! the sun has set long ago, and I am to leave carly to-morrow morning, to join the ship; I must spend the remainder of my tine with my father; for though fallen as he is, I must not forget that he is my parent."

A storm at sea!-It is a fine thing to set in our cushioned chairs, in the pleasantly lighted parlor, beside the glowing grate, and read with intense interest, and perchance with tearful eyes, of the dreadful storms at sea, of the angry gale, clothed in darkness, with a cloud for its banner, with the lightning for its torch, and the deep toned thunder for its music, striding like a messenger of wrath upon its desolating career. Who has not read of the ocean, when lashed as it were to madness, by its invisible foe, piling up its crested battlements in defiance, and then flying, soaring, before the gale. Certainly, William had, and his soul panted to be in the midst of the storm and danger. But very different were his sensations, when, at midnight, he was aroused from a refreshing sleep, the first that he had known since he left home, by the cry of-"All hands ahoy!"-Turn out and take in sail. The sailors iustantly leaped from their berths and commenced searching for their clothes, among the chests, with which, the forecastle was nearly covered.

William, pale and weary with his long sea sickness, and feeling his utter inability to be of service did not at first obey the summons; but he was not long permitted to remain, for the loud cry being repeated, made him spring from his berth, and fullow the others on deck. What a scene here pre