66 replied Agnes; "in the eyes of the world your's has certainly been the most brilliant and the most prosperous life." It may have been, but does God see with the eyes of the world? Though my path has been apparently so smooth and pleasant, and your's so full of trials and suffering, which of us Agnes, would be best able to go over those ten years again? With me they are gone never to be recalled, but from henceforth I renounce the follies that destroyed them, their dazzling charm has vanished like the lightning flash, and their power to trouble me like the thunder has rolled to nothing in the distance. Take me to your God, Agnes, that I may obtain pardon for the past, and a nobler object for the future. 66 And now, Agnes, if ever you should see a young and thoughtless creature like me, so easily dazzled, and so easily tempted, just growing up, will you warn her for my sake, not to give herself up to too much dissipation. Though a little may be innocent and even improving, to let it absorb and render useless the higher powers of the mind, is guilt and folly, and though at the end it may not be too late to repent, that those precious years are for ever lost, a life of usefulness, and a trust in heaven, is a higher pursuit, and a better support, than all the professions and admiration of a hollow, fickle world." To make our story complete, Aurelia kept her word, she gave up the world, recovered her health, married well, and, to the delight of her affectionate parent and faithful friend, led a domestic, useful, and a pious life. ARASSO. ISLAND SCENERY. "Sweet Isle of the south, from the Solent emerging, Which to fairy creations of fancy is verging, The sweetest of spots lav'd by old ocean's brine." In this paper I propose to take as my subject the rivers which contribute so much to the beauty of the landscape, and the fertility of the soil of the Garden of England." 66 Rivers have been described as things of vitality and beauty to the poet, silent monitors to the moralist, and agents of civilization to all mankind. But time was when the rivers of an island, or a country, either large or small, were of much more consequence than they are now considered. The ocean is very properly called the "highway of nations," and what the ocean is now to the nations, the rivers of any particular place were to its inhabitants formerly, their common highway, and often their only one. Hence on their banks the principal towns were generally planted. The inhabitants using their waters for domestic purposes, applying the force of their currents as substitutes for manual labour, and their bosoms as their general highway; for roads were not so common as they are now, and even those which did exist were in no comparison equal to those of our days. As to railroads, of course, they were wholly unknown. And when we consider that the ancients lived either upon the prey of the chase, or the prey of the net, we can still more see the importance of rivers to them, as the frail canoe could not be trusted into the mighty waters of the great sea. Hence the river was the scene of their fishing, as the wood was of their hunting excursions. Again, rivers are not of so much consideration now as formerly, because of the perfection attained in the railroad. Once the inland counties were dependent upon the road-waggons, the river, or the canal, which is indeed but an artificial river, for the transit of their goods. But now, they receive them in nearly as many hours after order, as then days, by the speedy rail, which seems to be fast supplanting every other mode of conveyance. As yet there is no railroad in the island; but it can boast of four rivers: the Medina, the Yar, the Wooton, and the Newtown, besides the spacious haven of Brading. The first mentioned is by far the largest, and the only one navigable for any distance. On this I shall enlarge, as being that with which I am most familiar. The river Medina has its source in St. Catharine's Hills, at the extreme south of the island, near a mansion called the "Medina Hermitage," and flowing towards the north, divides it into two equal parts, or nearly so, on account of which it receives its name, respectively called the Fast and West Medina. Before it reaches Newport, which is situate in the Medina Valley, it is only a small rivulet, and barely sufficient to work the few corn mills, which are built upon it; but when it reaches Newport it is joined by water which takes its rise about three miles westward of the town, and meeting at the quay forms a considerable body of water, which, growing deeper and wider, falls into the channel of the Solent Sea, at Cowes, about five miles distant. Many are the happy hours I have spent in connection with this river— "Ere since a truant boy I passed my bounds In my first paper I told you that "little rail," a fresh-water stream, was our infant bathing place, and so it was; but as years past on we grew ashamed of such a simple place, and betook ourselves to the waters of the nobler river. Here, and well do I remember the time, when, with several others, one beautiful summer's night, oppressed by the sultry heat of successive days, we resolved to cool our limbs in the placid waters of the Medina. We accordingly repaired thither, and leaving our clothes upon its banks, plunged into its yielding tide with most agreeable sensations. The moon, full orbed, shone beautifully, not a breeze seemed to ruffle the calm surface of the water, only the nightingale in the neighbouring copse, the gentle ebbing of the tide, and ourselves wading through it, broke in upon the death-like stillness which prevailed. Going out as far as with safety we could, we stood and sung that beautiful hymn of Cowper's, beginning "There is a fountain filled with blood Drawn from Immanuel's veins, |