George's arm than on her good man's; and, poor soul, she might well be proud of him, for a finer lad there was not in the country round."

Unfortunately, the son was tempted, during a year of scarcity and hardship, to enter into the service of one of the small vessels that plied on a neighbouring river. He had not been long in this employment when he was entrapped by a pressgang and carried off to sea. His parents received tidings of his seizure, but beyond that they could learn nothing. It was the loss of their main prop. The father, who was already infirm, grew heartless and melancholy, and sunk into his grave. The widow, left lonely in her aged feebleness, could no longer support herself, and came upon the parish. Still there was a kind feeling towards her throughout the village, and a certain respect, as being one of the oldest inhabitants; and, as no one applied for the cottage in which she had passed so many happy days, she was permitted to remain in it, where she lived solitary and almost helpless. The few wants of nature were chiefly supplied from the productions of her little garden, which the neighbours would, now and then, cultivate for her. It was but a few days before the time at which these things were told me that she was gathering some vegetables for her dinner, when she heard the cottage door, which faced the garden, suddenly opened. A stranger came out and seemed to be looking eagerly and wildly round. He was dressed in seaman's clothes, was emaciated and ghastly pale, and bore the air of one broken by sickness and hardships. He saw her and hastened towards her, but his steps were faint and faltering. He sank on his knees before her and sobbed like a child. The poor woman gazed upon him with a vacant and wandering eye. "Oh, my dear, dear mother, don't you know your son-your poor boy George?" It was, indeed, the wreck of her once noble lad, who, -shattered by wounds, by sickness, and foreign imprisonmenthad at length dragged his wasted limbs homeward, to repose among the scenes of his childhood.

I will not attempt to detail the particulars of such a meeting, where joy and sorrow were so completely blended. Still he was alive! he was come home! he might yet live to comfort and cherish her old age! Nature, however, was exhausted in him, and if anything had been wanting to finish the work of fate, the

He

desolation of his native cottage would have been sufficient. stretched himself on the pallet on which his widowed mother had passed many a sleepless night, and he never rose from it again.

The villagers, when they heard that George Somers had returned, crowded to see him, offering every comfort and assistance that their humble means afforded. He was too weak, however, to talk; he could only look his thanks. His mother was his constant attendant, and he seemed unwilling to be helped by any other hand. There is something in sickness that breaks down the pride of manhood; that softens the heart, and brings it back to the feelings of infancy. But there is an enduring tenderness in the love of a mother to her son! it is neither to be chilled by selfishness, nor daunted by danger, nor weakened by worthlessness, nor stifled by ingratitude. She will sacrifice every comfort to his convenience; she will surrender every pleasure to his enjoyment; she will glory in his fame and exult in his prosperity; and, if misfortune overtake him, he will be the dearer to her for misfortune; and if disgrace settle upon his name she will love and cherish him in spite of his disgrace; and if all the world beside cast him off, she will be all the world to him.

Poor George Somers had known what it was to be in sickness, and none to soothe; lonely and in prison, and none to visit him. He could not endure his mother from his sight. If she moved away, his eyes would follow her. She would sit for hours

by his bed, watching him as he slept. Sometimes he would start from a feverish dream and look anxiously up until he saw her bending over him, when he would take her hand, lay it on his bosom, and fall asleep with the tranquillity of a child. In this way he died.

My first impulse, on hearing this humble tale of affliction, was to visit the cottage of the mourner and administer pecuniary assistance, and, if possible, comfort. I found, however, on inquiry, that the good feelings of the villagers had prompted them to do everything that the case admitted; and as the poor know best how to console each other's sorrows, I did not venture to intrude.

The next Sunday I was at the village church, when, to my surprise, I say the poor old woman tottering down the aisle to her accustomed seat on the steps of the altar.

She had made an effort to put on something like mourning for her son, and nothing could be more touching than this struggle between pious affection and utter poverty-a black riband or so, a faded black handkerchief, and one or two more such humble attempts to express by outward signs that grief which passes show.

I related her story to some of the wealthy members of the congregation, and they were moved by it. They exerted themselves to render her situation more comfortable, and to lighten her afflictions. It was, however, but smoothing a few steps to the grave. In the course of a Sunday or two after she was missed from her usual seat at church, and before I left the neighbourhood I heard, with a feeling of satisfaction, that she had quietly breathed her last, and had gone to rejoin those she loved in that world where sorrow is never known and friends are never parted. WASHINGTON IRVING.

The Glories of Heaven.

PRAISED the earth in beauty seen,
With garlands gay of various green;
I praised the earth whose ample field
Shone glorious as a silver shield;
And earth and ocean seemed to say,
"Our beauties are but for a day.'

I praised the sun, whose chariot rolled
On wheels of amber and of gold;
I praised the moon, whose softer eye
Gleamed sweetly through the summer sky;
And moon and sun in answer said,
"Our days of light are numbered."

O God! O good beyond compare!
If thus Thy meaner works are fair,
If thus thy bounties gild the span
Of ruined earth and sinful man,
How glorious must the mansion be
Where Thy redeemed shall dwell with Thee!

REGINALD HEBER (Bishop of Calcutta).

The Covetous Man.-A Fable.

POOR covetous wretch, who had scraped together a large sum of money, went and dug a hole in one of his fields and hid it. The great pleasure of his life was to go and look upon his treasure once a day, which one of his servants observing, and guessing there was something more than ordinary in the

place, came at night, found it, and carried it off. The next day, returning as usual to the scene of his delight, and perceiving it had been snatched away from him, he tore his hair for grief, and uttered the doleful complaint of his despair to the woods and meadows. At last, a neighbour of his, who knew his temper, overhearing him, and being informed of the occasion of his sorrow,- "Cheer up, man !" says he, " thou hast lost nothing; there is the hole for thee to go and peep at still; and if thou can'st but fancy the money there, it will do just as well."

An Anecdote of Louis Sixteenth of France.

FRENCH bishop owed his saddler 10,000 livres, of which the poor man was not able to obtain a single sous; but was at length turned out of the palace by the servants when he went to ask for the debt. The saddler, who was ruined for want of the 'money, was obliged to leave Paris, in order to avoid a gaol. Previous to doing this, he called on a relation of his, who was the king's valet-de-chambre, to take his leave of him. In stating his distressed situation, he spoke so loud that the king, the amiable Louis XVI., who was in the adjoining apartment, called out to ask the cause. The valet made the best apology he could, at the same time hinting the cause of his friend's distress. The king examined the saddler, and immediately paid the bill, taking a receipt for the money.

A few days afterwards the bishop appeared at court. "I come, sire,” said he, "to pay my duty to your majesty." "There is another duty," said the king; "you must first pay the duty of honesty." Then calling for the saddler's receipt, he ordered him to send the money within two hours, giving him, at the same time, a severe reprimand.

Popular Stories.

THE LITTLE TAILOR AND THE GIANT.

T was a fine summer morning when this little man bound his girdle round his body, and looked about his house to see if there was anything good to take with him on his journey into the wide world. He could only find an old cheese; but that was better than nothing; so he took it up; and, as he was going out, the old hen met him at the door, and he packed her, too, into his wallet with the cheese. Then off he set, and, when he had climbed a high hill, he found the giant sitting upon the top.

"Good day, comrade," said he ; "there you sit at your ease, and look the wide world over: I have a mind to go and try my luck in that same world; what do you say to going with me?” Then the giant looked at him, and said, "You are a poor trumpery little knave." "That may be," said the tailor; "but we shall see who is the best man of the two." The giant, finding the little man so bold, began to be a little more respectful, and said they would soon see who was master. So he took a large stone in his hand and squeezed it till water dropped from it. "Do that,” said he, "if you have a mind to be thought a strong man." "Is that all?" said the tailor; "I will soon do as much : so he put his hand in his wallet, pulled out the cheese (which was quite new), and squeezed it till the whey ran out. "What do you say now, Mr. Giant? My squeeze was a better one than yours." Then the giant, not seeing that it was only a cheese, did not know what to say for himself, though he could hardly believe his eyes. At