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verbs, where he says," Look well to the state of thy flocks-and thou shalt have goat's milk enough for thy food, for the food of thy household,"&c.
These animals which have been seen by modern travellers, are probably of the same kind that were kept in Judea in the days of the prophet Amos, more than two thousand six hundred years ago. Amos lived in the reign of Jeroboam the Second, and prophesied a little before Isaiah; he was a shepherd, and many allusions in his writings, which are esteemed very beautiful, are drawn from his country employment.
INTERESTING AND INSTRUCTIVE EXTRACTS.
AUTUMN. AUTUMN has come again! One more is added to the list of years that have passed over us, and the ripe fruit and the falling leaf show that many of us have filled our cup of life ; and that as the leaf turns pale, we too must cease our mortal vegetation! The stream runs on—but we cease to be. The moonlight rests upon the hill side-but it will fall upon our graves !-The leaf is renewed and the fruit will be ripened—but man lives not again upon the earth! He leaves only a perishing monument of good or evil, in the memory of surviving friends--a trace in sand, which the returning tide of time will obliterate for ever! The insect on which we tread, the fabled gods of olden time, the wish as yet unwished, are not more frail, feeble, unlasting, than all that man is and must be! Like the meteor, he lights the sky for a moment, passes in darkness and is forgotten There is a melancholy pleasure in contemplating the "sear and yellow leaf.” The autumnal season is one dear to memory. All things die about us, and we remember the departed. The eye naturally looks back upon the vales and mountains of existence over which we have passed, even until distance makes indistinct the occurrences of infancy.-We have ever found it to be the case, that autumn calls up our remembrance of of those who are dead—the playmates of our youth.
The first kindling of the parlor fire--the gathering
around it-the "wheeling of the sofa round”—these ! circumstances alone call up recollections of the past, and turn the tide of thought from anticipation to memory. They will send us slowly back to the bright fountains and green landscape of younger days. The head sinks upon the hand, and visions of early pleasure flit across the brain-the cares of to-day vanish, and we live over in an hour, a life of joy and sorrow.
CURIOUS PROPERTIES OF THE FIGURE 9. • The following discovery of remarkable properties of
the number 9 was accidentally made by Mr. V. Green,
8 = 9
9 X 9 = 81; 8 + 1 = 9 The component figures of the product, made by the multiplication of every digit into the number 9, when added together make nine. The order of these component figures is reversed, after the said number has been multiplied by 5. The component figures of the amount of the multiplier, (viz. 45) when added together make nine. The amount of the several pro- ducts, or multiplies of 9, (viz. 405) when divided by nine, gives for a quotient, 45; that is 4+5=9. The amount of the first product, (viz. 9) when added to the other products, whose respective component figures makes 9, is 81; which is the square of nine. The said number 81, when added to the above mentioned amount of the several products, or multiplies of 9, (viz. 405) makes 486; which, if divided by 9, give for a quotient 54 ; that is, 544=9. It is also observable that the number of changes that may be rung on 9 bells, is
362,880 ; which figures, added together, make 27; that is 2+7=9. And the quotient of 362,880, divided by 9, is 40,320; that is 4+0+3+2+0=9.
No man can safely go abroad, that does not love to stay at home; no man can safely speak, that does not willingly hold his tongue; no man can safely govern, that would not willingly become subject; no man can safely command, that has not truly learned to obey; and no man can safely rejoice, but he that has the testimony of a good conscience.
BY REV. H. HUTTON.
On the plain as we pass, without care for them now;
And they drop, unprotected, uncropt from the bough. But lately we gazed on their beauties, and prayed
That the sun-beam would cherish and ripen their bloom; And we hoped, ah how vainly, for see where they fade!
'Twould be long ere the garden should lose their perfume. Thus often young genius is praised and caressed,
While his morning of promise is splendid and gay; And bright seem his prospects of fame and of rest,
Till the blast of detraction sweeps over his way. Alas! how the world views the fallen with scorn
How it heedlessly tramples the withering mind ! Forgotten the charms which attracted at morn,
All its worth, all its hopes, are to darkness consigned.
To the pinings of virtue in misery's hour!
When ruin's sharp blight o’er their prospects bas blown;
And pass on their way without pity or moan.
Oh, court not the smiles of the world ; they are vain !
Nor trust in its promises-fear not its strife;
And confide in that Being, whose favor is life.
To adorn the sear bough with its splendors once more, Will cause joy to arise from each struggle and tear
And thy leaf to be green when lífe's winter is o'er.
I speak to time. “ WHAT voice may speak to thee, tomb-builder, Time!
Thou wast, and art and shall be when the breath
That holds communion now is hushed in death.
The cities of the lava-sepulchre
The relics of God's wrathful minister Yield up their hoarded history of tears.
The Pyramid and Mausoleum proud,
Attest of thee and tell of those that were,
Of sounding names now heard as empty air, That once were as the voice of nations loud ;
The Persian and the Greek are kindred there Feuds are forgot when foes the narrow dwellings erowd!.
IT IS NOT so.
It is not so, it is not so,
The world may think me gay
May ceaseless seem to play;
Gilds not the depth below,
But yet it is not so.
The secret grief reveal ?
Who do not, cannot feel?
Unseen the tear-drop flow,
Responds--it is not so.
There's a something that cannot be told;
And thoughts but the eyes can unfold,
So conscious, so quick to impart;
And strikes in an instant the heart.
In vain we attempt to suppress :
More apt the fond truth to express.
The raptures the bosom that melt;
Is mutually spoken and felt.
How proudly burst the golden light of day
Upon the temple where Jehovah stood;
Upon his altar's holy solitude!
Its essence in the day-spring of the sky,
But thine, my land, was quench'd in agony.
Yet, when from yonder broad blue arch of Heaven
I see the storm-cloud roll its gloom away, Shall I not dream of thee, as free, forgiven,
Thou'lt start to more than glory's primal day.
The fragrance of thy desolated shore.
And thy sad murmur sweeps the waters o'er.
One thought of loveliness not born of thee,
That rose so proudly by fair Gallilee,
And from them all, I turn to sigh for thee.