wife of a devoted clergyman-Samuel a Sabbath School teacher and a member of the church. In short, the whole family are happy and prosperous. A reconciliation has been effected between her and her brother and sister, and the smiles of heaven and earth seem to be resting upon them all.

OLD AND YOUNG MEN.

BY MRS. S. MOWBRAY.

"Our years a fruitless race without a prize,
Too many, yet too few to make us wise;
To say the truth, though in its early prime,
And when unstained with any grosser crime,
Youth has a sprightliness and fire to boast,
That in the valley of decline are lost;

The fruits of age less fair, are yet more sound,
Than those a brighter season pours around."

COWPER.

THE ancients were so certain that with the aged alone is wisdom, that they regarded as utopian, every supposition of youth excelling in anything that required the exercise of either judgment or prudence. This mistake seems to have originated principally in the difficulty then existing of acquiring knowledge otherwise than by experience.

But if such was the error of olden times, the belief of our own day has verged on the opposite extreme. Youth now, as if determined on making ample amends for its long minority, assumes to itself the whole field of enterprize and fame, as if the arduous pursuits of these departments were wholly incompatible with matured knowledge and lengthened experience. Surely this sentiment is equally absurd, and the design of this article is to illustrate the folly of both these impressions, and to convince by undeniable facts, the advocates of each, that eminence has been attained in almost every kind of excellence, by very old as well as by very young men. And indeed this is one of the most remarkable peculiarities of human character, its capability of acting from apparent intuition, as well as from reflection or experience.

D'Israeli says of the pleasures derivable from the cultivation of

the arts, sciences, and literature, that "time will not abate the growing passion for these pursuits, since old men still cherish an affection, and feel a youthful enthusiasm for them, when all others have ceased to interest." Dr. Reid, to his last day, retained an active interest in his various studies, and particularly in the revolutions of modern chemistry. In advanced life we may resume our former studies with a new pleasure, and in old age enjoy them, with the same relish with which more youthful students commence. Professor Dugald Stewart relates a remark of the celebrated Adam Smith, that "of all amusements of old age, the most grateful and soothing is a renewal of acquaintance with the favorite authors of youth."

Socrates learned to play on musical instruments in his old age; Cato, at eighty, thought proper to learn Greek, and Plutarch almost as late in life, Latin.

Theophrastus began his admirable work on the Characters of Men at the extreme age of ninety. His literary labors were only terminated by his death.

Sir Henry Spelman neglected the sciences in his youth, but cultivated them at fifty years of age, with eminent ability and success. His early years were chiefly spent in farming, which greatly diverted him from his studies; but a remarkable disappointment respecting a contested estate, disgusted him with these occupations; and then, resolving to attach himself to regular studies, and literary society, he sold his farms, and became a learned antiquary and lawyer.

Tellier, the Chancellor of France, learned logic, merely for an amusement, and to dispute with his grand-children.

Dr. Johnson applied himself to the Dutch language, but a few years before his death.

Ludovico Monaldesco, at the extraordinary age of 115, wrote the memoirs of his times, a singular exertion, noticed by Voltaire, who is himself one of the most remarkable instances of the progress of age in new studies.

Some of the most delightful works of Blair, Fenelon, Young, Massillon, and Fontenelle, were written, at a very advanced age, and every student of the Bible must feel that the book of Proverbs, with its profound wisdom and universality of adaptation, is a labor of advanced life--whilst nothing less than a youthful imagination

could have conceived and executed the inimitable designs of Raphael or Correggio.

Alexander subdued his enemies in Greece, took possession of the neighboring countries, conquered the whole of Asia Minor, Syria, Egypt and Persia, and a large part of India, besides countless smaller kingdoms, and died at Babylon, at the age of thirty-two years.

Hannibal was made general of the Carthagenian armies at the age of twenty-two. By the time he was twenty-eight, he had driven the Romans from Spain and Gaul, had crossed the Alps, and by the battle of Cannæ had brought Rome itself into imminent danger of subjection.

Buonaparte, at the age of twenty-seven, was made general of the French armies, after which he subdued the whole of Italy, passed into Egypt, invaded Syria, returned to France, was made First Consul, crossed the Alps, gained the decisive victory of Marengo, again subdued Italy, and was eventually crowned Emperor— having gained many of his most brilliant victories before he reached the age of thirty-five.

Cortes pushed his way up from obscurity, and obtained the command of the expedition to Mexico, and by his consummate boldness and address, at the age of thirty-five, became master of the mighty Aztec Empire. The younger Pitt was appointed chancellor of the exchequer and prime minister of England, at the age of twentyfour. Burke laid the foundation of his reputation for eloquence as a writer and speaker, as early as his twenty-seventh year. Lord Bacon had conceived his design of overthrowing the philosophy of Aristotle in his sixteenth year. Sir Isaac Newton had made his most important discoveries before he reached the age of thirty.Lord Byron composed many of his finest poems before his thirtieth year; and Burns, who died at the same age, published some of his most exquisite compositions before the age of twenty-seven.

The Rev. Sylvester Larned, at the early age of thirteen, was chosen by his fellow students of the Academy of Pittsfield to deliver an oration on the anniversary of American freedom. It was a subject of great surprise how this remarkable boy could, by a glance of thought, range through the whole field of knowledge, and without any apparent effort, outstrip all his cotemporaries.His subsequent brilliant career, and lamented death, are too well

known to require from me a repetition in this place. I might go on to narrate many other instances of precocious genius, as well as of vigorous intellect in old age, but enough has been said to prove that no one rule can be applied universally either to the development or the decay of the mental faculties. We admire the manifestation of genius and energy in early youth, but when, as in the case of the venerable Adams, the patriot and the sage of Quincy, we see the tree that in extreme youth was covered with blossoms, still bringing forth fruit in old age, we involuntarily bow before the majesty of this more than Roman virtue, and confess that such a hoary head is indeed a crown of glory.

OBEY CHRIST.-ANECDOTE.

AN American Presbyterian clergyman, when in England, a few years ago, published an interesting account of an American cottager, on a missionary station in one of the Western States. This pious woman had been received as a member into a Christian church, but had not yet enjoyed the privilege of obeying the Savior's command, "This do in remembrance of me." She was suddenly laid on a sick bed, which indeed proved the bed of death. She sent for her pastor, and expressed a most ardent desire that he would administer to her the holy ordinance of the supper. Her ardor on the subject was so strong, that he began to fear she was attaching to it too much importance, and was considering obedience to this command a passport to heaven. He delicately expressed to her his fear on this subject. Her reply, however, was more than satisfactory: "No, sir, I do not think that the reception of the Lord's supper is essential to the salvation of my soul; but I do feel that if I die without it, I shall hardly be happy, because I shall never forget that there was a command of the Savior who loved me that I never obeyed."

I will endeavor to regulate every thing with reference to the religious instruction of my household; and see that a suitable and sufficient time is alloted to domestic devotions.

THE TWO WHALERS,

OR ISLANDS WITH AND WITHOUT THE BIBLE.

In the year 1835, a whale-ship left the harbor which lies before my open window for the Pacific Ocean. While sailing along one of the beautiful isles of that sea nearly under the equator, a large number of the natives came off for the purposes of trade. No treachery was suspected, and all for a while went on amicably.— But, upon a signal from a chief, the natives sprang for the harpoons, whale-spades, and other deadly weapons at hand, and a desperate contest immediately ensued. The captain was killed by a single stroke of a whale-spade; the first mate also, soon after. The second mate jumped overboard and was killed in the water, and four seamen lost their lives. A part of the crew ran up the rigging for security, and the rest into the forecastle. Among these last was a young man, the third mate, by the name of Jones, the only surviving officer. By his cool intrepidity and judgment, and after a long and fearful encounter, the ship was cleared, the chief killed, and many of his companions, both of those on board and those who came alongside to aid in securing the ship. Mr. Jones now became the captain, buried the dead, dressed the wounded, and made sail for the Sandwich Islands, whence the ship was sent home to this port, the voyage, for the want of necessary officers, being completely broken up and thousands of dollars lost to owners and underwriters.

The blessed gospel had never shed its influence on this benighted island, and there was no power to weaken the ferocious passions of Had the gospel been there, how different would have been the scene.

men.

Somewhere the survivors of that massacre must find an asylum. Weeping over their slain companions, in the anguish of their own wounds, and in the disappointment of their broken-up voyage, they must hasten somewhere for refuge. But what made their asylum at the Sandwich Islands so welcome and desirable? The gospel was there! Missionary influence had made the Island a fit and a safe resort. The downcast mariner knew that where the gospel banner waved there was safety.