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And many a message have I brought

To families I cannot find ;
Long for John Goodman's have I sought,

To tell them Hal's not far behind.” “Oh! does he live ?” my father cried ;

My mother did not stay to speak; My Jessy now I silent eyed,

Who throbb'd as if her heart would break.

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My mother saw her catching sigh,

And hid her face behind the rock, While tears swam round in every eye,

And not a single word was spoke. “ He lives indeed! this kerchief see,

At parting his dear Jessy gave; He sent it far, with love, by me,

To show he still escapes the grave.” An arrow, darting from a bow,

Could not more quick the token reach; The patch from off my face I drew,

And gave my voice its well known speech. My Jessy dear!" I softly said;

She gazed and answer'd with a sigh; My sisters look’d, as half afraid ;

My mother fainted quite for joy. My father danced around his son,

My brothers shook my hand away ; My mother said “her glass might run,

She cared not now how soon the day.” Hout, woman!” cried my father dear,

“A wedding first, I'm sure, we'll have; I warrant we'll live a hundred year,

KING CANUTE.

BERNARD BARTON. “Canute, the greatest and most powerful monarch of his time, sovereign of Denmark and Norway as well as of England, could not fail of meeting with adulation from his courtiers; a tribute which is liberally paid even to the meanest and weakest princes. Some of his flatterers, breaking out one day in admiration of his grandeur, exclaimed, that everything was possible for him; upon which the mona ch, it is said, ordered his chair to be set on the sea-shore, while the tide was rising; and as the waters approached he commanded them to retire, and to obey the voice of him who was lord of the ocean.

He feigned to sit some time in expectation of their submission; but when the sea still advanced towards him, and began to wash him with its billows, he turned to his courtiers, and remarked to them, that every creature in the universe was feeble and impotent, and that power resided with one Being alone, in whose hands were all the elements of Nature, who could say to the ocean, Thus far shalt thou go, and no farther; and who could level with his nod the most towering piles of human pride and ambition."—Hume's History of England.

UPON his royal throne he sat,

In a monarch's thoughtful mood;
Attendants on his regal state

His servile courtiers stood,
With foolish flatteries, false and vain,
To win his smile, his favour gain.
They told him o'en the mighty deep

His kingly sway confess'd :
That he could bid its billows leap

Or still its stormy breast!
He smiled contemptuously, and cried,
“Be then my boasted empire tried !"
Down to the Ocean's sounding shore

The proud procession came,
To see its billows' wild uproar

King Canute's power proclaim;
Or, at his high and dread command,
In gentle murmurs kiss the strand.
Not so, thought he, their noble king,

As his course he seaward sped,
And each base slave, like a guilty thing,

Hung down his conscious head :-
He knew the ocean's Lord on high!
They, that he scorn'd their senseless lie.
His throne was placed by Ocean's side,

He lifted his sceptre there;
Bidding, with tones of kingly pride,

The waves their strife forbear :-
And, while he spoke his royal will,
All but the winds and waves were still.
Louder the stormy blast swept by,

In scorn of his idle word;
The briny deep its waves toss'd high,

By his mandate undeterr’d,

As threatening, in their angry play,
To sweep both king and court away.
The monarch with upbraiding look

Turn'd to the courtly ring;
But none the kindling eye could brook

Even of his earthly king;
For in that wrathful glance they see
A mightier monarch wrong'd than he!
Canute! thy regal race is run;

Thy name had pass'd away,
But for the mede this tale hath won,

Which never shall decay:
Its meek, unperishing renown,
Outlasts thy sceptre and thy crown,
The Persian, in his mighty pride,*

Forged fetters for the main;
And when its floods his power defied,

Inflicted stripes as vain ;-
But it was worthier far of thee

To know thyself, than rule the sea! 1. Of what countries was Canute king? 6. Who are meant by the word all, in

2. How great did his flatterers say his verse 5th ? power was?

7. What mightier monarch is meant ? 3. To what verb is they, in verse 4th, the 8. When did Canute flourish? nominative?

9. What keeps his name still alive in 4. When seated on the shore, what com- our minds ? mand did the monarch give the sea ?

10. Relate the historical fact referred to 5. What effect did it produce ?

in the last verse.

ABOU BEN ADHEM AND THE ANGEL.

LEIGH HUNT. 1 John ii. 14. We know that we have passed from death unto life, because we love

the brethren. He that loveth not his brother abideth in death.
ABOU BEN ADHEM (may his tribe increase !),
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An Angel, writing in a book of gold :-
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the presence in the room he said,
• What writest thou?”—The vision raised its head,
And, with a look made of all sweet accord,
Answered, “The names of those who love the Lord.”

“And is mine one?" said Abou. “Nay, not so,"
Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,
But cheerly still; and said, “I pray thee, then
Write me as one that loves his fellow-men."

The angel wrote, and vanish'd. The next night
It came again with a great wakening light,
And show'd the names whom love of God had bless'd,
And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest!

STUDY OF THE WORKS OF NATURE.

THOMSON.
O NATURE ! all-sufficient! over all!
Enrich me with the knowledge of Thy works !
Snatch me to heaven ; Thy rolling wonders there,
World beyond world, in infinite extent,
Profusely scatter'd o'er the blue immense,
Show me; their motions, periods, and their laws,
Give me to scan ; through the disclosing deep-
Light my blind way; the mineral strata there;
Thrust, blooming, thence the vegetable world;
O'er that the rising system more complex,
Of animals; and higher still, the mind,
The varied soene of quick-compounded thought,
And where the mixing passions endless shift;
These ever open to my ravish'd eye;
A search, the flight of time can ne'er exhaust!
But if to that unequal—if the blood,
In sluggish streams about my heart, forbid
That best ambition—under closing shades,
Inglorious, lay me by the lowly brook,
And whisper to my dreams. From Thee begin,
Dwell all on Thee, with Thee conclude my song;

And let me never, never stray from Thee! 1. What is meant by Nature here?

6. Whence is the vegetable world thrust? 2. What mean you by the rolling wonders 7. What system of works stands above of heaven?

the vegetable kingdom? 3. What would the poet like to learn 8. What isthe grandest work of creation about these worlds ?

here below ? 4. Name the kingdoms of Nature in 9. What perfections of God may we their order, beginning with the lowest. learn from the material world?

5. Where are the strata or beds of mine- 10. Ah! but where do we learn that He rals found ?

is a God of mercy and justice combined ?

NAPOLEON AND THE BRITISH SAILOR.

CAMPBELL.
I LOVE contemplating-apart
From all his homicidal glory-
The traits that soften to our heart

Napoleon's story.

'Twas when his banners at Boulogne,
Arm'd in our island every freeman,
His navy chanced to capture one

Poor British seaman.
They suffer'd him, I know not how,
Unprison'd on the shore to roam;
And aye was bent his youthful brow

On England's home.
His eye, methinks, pursued the flight
Of birds to Britain, half way over,
With envy—they could reach the white

Dear cliffs of Dover !
A stormy midnight watch, he thought,
Than this sojourn would have been dearer,
If but the storm his vessel brought

To England nearer.
At last, when care had banish'd sleep,
He saw one morning, dreaming, doating,
An empty hogshead from the deep

Come shoreward floating.
He hid it in a cave, and wrought
The livelong day, laborious, lurking,
Until he launch'd a tiny boat,

By mighty working.
Oh, dear me! 'twas a thing beyond
Description !—such a wretched wherry,
Perhaps, ne'er ventured on a pond,

Or cross'd a ferry!
For ploughing in the salt sea field,
It would have made the boldest shudder;
Untarr'd, uncompass’d, and unkeel’d, -

No sail - no rudder. From neighbouring woods he interlaced His sorry skiff with wattled willows; And thus equipp'd he would have pass'd

The foaming billows!
A French guard caught him on the beach,
His little Argo sorely jeering,
Till tidings of him chanced to reach

Napoleon's hearing.
With folded arms Napoleon stood,
Serene alike in peace and danger,
And, in his wonted attitude,

Address'd the stranger.