that they are gods-with Alexander. On some she smiles, as on Napoleon, with an aspect more bewitching than that of an Italian sun; but it is only to make her frown the more terrible, and, by one short caress, to embitter the pangs of separation. Ambition, avarice, love, revenge, all these seek her, and her alone: alas! they are neither presented to her, nor will she come to them. She despatches, however, to them her envoys. To ambition, she sends power; to avarice, wealth; to love, jealousy; to revenge, remorse:-alas! what are these, but so many other names for vexation or disappointment! Neither is she to be won by flatteries nor bribes: she is to be gained by waging war against her enemies, much sooner than by paying any particular court to herself. Those that conquer her adversaries, will find that they need not go to her; for she will come unto them.

None bid so high for her as kings; few are more willing, none more able, to purchase her alliance at the fullest price. But she has no more respect for kings, than for their subjects; she mocks them, indeed, with the empty show of a visit, by sending to their palaces all her equipage, her pomp, and her train; but she comes not herself. What, then, detains her? She is travelling incognito, to keep a private assignation with contentment, and to partake of a conversation and a dinner of herbs, with some humble, but virtuous peasant, in a cottage. Anonymous.

The Idiot.

A POOR widow, in a small town in the north of England, kept a booth or stall of apples and sweetmeats. She had an idiot child, so utterly helpless and dependent, that he did not appear to be ever alive to anger or self-defence. He sat all day at her feet, and seemed to be possessed of no other sentiment of the human kind, than confidence in his mother's love, and a dread of the schoolboys, by whom he was often annoyed. His whole occupation, as he sat on the ground, was in swinging backwards and forwards, singing "pal-lal" in a low pathetic voice, only interrupted at intervals on the appearance of any of his tormentors, when he clung to his mother in alarm. From morning to evening he sung his plaintive and aimless ditty; at night, when his poor mother gathered up her little wares to return home, so deplorable did his defects appear, that, while

she carried her table on her head, her stock of little mer. chandise in her lap, and her stool in one hand, she was obliged to lead him by the other. Ever and anon, as any of the schoolboys appeared in view, the harmless thing clung close to her, and hid his face in her bosom for protection. A human creature so far below the standard of humanity, was nowhere ever seen: he had not even the shallow cunning which is often found among these unfin ished beings; and his simplicity could not even be meas ured by the standard we would apply to the capacity of a lamb. Yet it had a feeling rarely manifested even in the affectionate dog, and a knowledge never shown by any mere animal. He was sensible of his mother's kindness, and how much he owed to her care. At night, when she spread his humble pallet, though he knew not prayer, nor could comprehend the solemnities of worship, he prostrated himself at her feet; and, as he kissed them mumbled a kind of mental orison, as if in fond and holy devotion In the morning, before she went abroad to resume her station in the market-place, he peeped anxiously out to reconnoitre the street; and, as often as he saw any of the schoolboys in the way, he held her firmly back, and sung his sorrowful "pal-lal.”

One day the poor woman and her idiot boy were missed from the market-place; and the charity of some of the neighbours induced them to visit her hovel. They found her dead on her sorry couch, and the boy sitting beside her, holding her hand, swinging and singing his pitiful lay more sorrowfully than he had ever done before. He could not speak, but only utter a brutish gabble; sometimes, however, he looked as if he comprehended something of what was said. On this occasion, when the neighbours spoke to him, he looked up with the tear in his eye; and clasping the cold hand more tenderly, sunk the strain of his mournful "pal-lal" into a softer and sadder key. The spectators, deeply affected, raised him from the body; and he surrendered his hold of the earthly hand without resist ance, retiring in silence to an obscure corner of the room. One of them, looking towards the others, said to them "Poor wretch! what shall we do with him?" At that moment, he resumed his chant; and, lifting two handfuls of dust from the floor, sprinkled it on his head, and sung, with a wild and clear heart-piercing pathos, "pal-lalpal-lal." Blackwood's Magazine

PULPIT ELOQUENCE.

The Departed Spirits of the Just are Spectators of our Conduct on Earth.

FROM what happened on the Mount of Transfiguration', we may infer', not only that the separated spirits of good' men' live' and act', and enjoy' happiness'; but that they take some interest in the business of this' world, and even that their interest' in it has a connection' with the pursuits and habits' of their former life. The virtuous cares which occupied them on earth', follow them into their new abode. Moses' and Elias` had spent the days of their' temporal pilgrimage in promoting among their brethren', the knowledge and the worship' of the true God'. They are still' attentive to the same great object; and, enraptured' at the prospect of its advancement', they descend' on this occasion' to animate' the labours' of Jesus', and to prepare him for his victory over the powers of hell`.

What a delightful subject of contemplation' does this reflection open' to the pious' and benevolent' mind! what a spring' does it give to all the better energies of the heart! Your labours of love', your plans of beneficence', your swellings of satisfaction' in the rising reputation of those whose virtues you have cherished', will not, we have reason' to hope, be terminated' by the stroke' of death'. No! -your spirits will still linger around the objects of their former attachment'; they will behold with rapture, even the distant' effects of those beneficent' institutions' which they once' delighted' to rear`; they will watch with a pious satisfaction over the growing prosperity of the country' which they loved'; with a parent's fondness', and a parent's exultation', they will share' in the fame` of their virtuous' posterity'; and-by the permission of God' they may descend', at times', as guardian angels', to shield' them from danger', and to conduct' them to glory!

Of all the thoughts' that can enter the human mind', this' is one of the most animating and consolatory'. It scatters flowers' around the bed of death'. It enables us who are left behind', to support with firmness', the depart ure of our best beloved friends', because it teaches' us that they are not lost to us for ever'. They are still' our friends. Though they be now gone to another' apartment in our Father's house, they have carried' with them the remembrance` and the feeling' of their former' attachments'. Though invisible' to us-they bend from their dwelling on high', to cheer' us in our pilgrimage' of duty', to rejoice with us in our prosperity', and, in the hour of virtuous' exertion', to shed' through our souls', the bles sedness' of heaven'.

Finlayson

Time and Manner of the Arrival of Death.

DEATH is called, in Scripture, the land without any order; and, without any order, the king of terrors makes his approaches in the world. The commission given from on high, was, "Go into the world: Strike! strike! so that that the dead may alarm the living." Hence it is, that we seldom see men running the full career of life; grow. ing old among their children's children, and then falling asleep in the arms of nature, as in the embraces of a kind mother-coming to the grave like a shock of corn fully ripe, like flowers that shut up at the close of the day. Death walks through the world without any order. He delights to surprise, to give a shock to mankind. Hence, he leaves the wretched to prolong the line of their sorrows, and cuts off the fortunate in the midst of their career; he suffers the aged to survive himself, to outlive life, to stalk about the ghost of what he was; and aims his arrow at the heart of the young, who puts the evil day far from him. He delights to see the feeble carrying the vigorous to the grave, and the father building the tomb of his children. Often, when his approaches are least expected, he bursts at once upon the world, like an earthquake in the dead of night, or thunder in the serenest sky. All ages and conditions he sweeps away without distinction: the young man just entering into life, high in hope, elated with joy, and promising to himself a length of years; the father of a family, from the embraces of his wife and chil

dren; the man of the world, when his designs are ripening to execution, and the long-expected crisis of enjoyment seems to approach. These, and all others, are hurried promiscuously off the stage, and laid, without order, in the common grave. Every path in the world leads to the tomb, and every hour in life hath been to some the last hour.

Without order, too, is the manner of death's approach. The king of terrors wears a thousand forms; pains and diseases-a numerous and a direful train-compose his host. Marking out unhappy man for their prey, they attack the seat of life, or the seat of understanding; hurry him off the stage in an instant, or make him pine by slow degrees. Blasting the bloom of life, or waiting till the decline, according to the pathetic picture of Solomon, "they make the strong men bow themselves, and the keepers of the house tremble; make the grinders cease; bring the daughters of music low; darken the sun, and the moon, and the stars; scatter fears in the way, and make desire itself to fail; until the silver cord be loosed, and the golden bowl be broken; when the dust returns to the dust as it was, and the spirit ascends to God who gave it."

On the Threatened Invasion in 1803.

Logan.

By a series of criminal enterprises, by the success of guilty ambition, the liberties of Europe have been gradually extinguished. The subjugation of Holland, Switzerland, and the free towns of Germany, has completed that catastrophe; and we are the only people in the eastern hemisphere, who are in possession of equal laws, and a free constitution. Freedom, driven from every spot on the Continent, has sought an asylum in a country which she always chose for her favourite abode: but she is pursued even here, and threatened with destruction. inundation of lawless power, after covering the whole earth, threatens to follow us here; and we are most exactly, most critically placed in the only aperture where it can be successfully repelled-in the Thermopyla of the world. As far as the interests of freedom are concerned-the most important by far of sublunary interests!-you, my countrymen, stand in the capacity of the federal representatives of the human race; for with you it is to deter

The