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The frugal wifie, garrulous, will tell,
How 'twas a towmond auld, sin' lint was i’ the bell.
The cheerfu' supper done, wi' serious face,

They round the ingle form a circle wide ;
The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace,

The big ha’ Bible, ance his father's pride: His bonnet rev'rently is laid aside,

His lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare;
Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide,

He wales a portion with judicious care;
And “Let us worship God ľ” he says, with solemn air.
They chaunt their artless notes in simple guise,

They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim:
Perhaps “ Dundee's" wild warbling measures rise,

Or plaintive “Martyrs," worthy of the name; Or noble “ Elgin" beets the heav'nward flame,

The sweetest far of Scotia's holy lays: Compared with these, Italian trills are tame;

The tickled ears no heartfelt raptures raise ; Nae unison ha'e they with our Creator's praise. The priest-like father reads the sacred page,

How Abram was the friend of God on bigh ; Or Moses bade eterual warfare wage

With Amalek's ungracious progeny; Or how the royal Bard did groaning lie

Beneath the stroke of Heaven's avenging ire ;
Or Job's pathetic plaint, and wailing cry,

Or rapt Isaiah's wild, seraphic fire ;
Or other holy seers that tune the sacred lyre.
Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme,

How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed;
How He who bore in Heav'n the second name,

Had not on earth whereon to lay his head : How his first followers and servants sped:

The precepts sage they wrote to many a land : How he, who lone in Patmos banished,

Saw in the sun a mighty angel stand; And heard great Babylon's doom pronounc'd by Heav'n's command. Then kneeling down, to Heaven's Eternal King,

The saint, the father, and the husband prays: Hope springs exulting on triumphant wing,

That thus they all shall meet in future days: There ever bask in uncreated rays,

No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear;
Together hymning their Creator's praise,

In such society, yet still more dear;
While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere.
Compared with this, how poor Religion's pride,

In all the pomp of method, and of art,

When men display to congregations wide

Devotion's ev'ry grace, except the heart ! The pow'r, incensed, the pageant will desert,

The pompous strain, the sacerdotal stole; But haply, in some cottage far apart,

May hear, well pleased, the language of the soul ; And in his book of life the inmates poor enrol. Then homeward all take off their sev'ral way;

The youngling cottagers retire to rest; The parent pair their secret homage pay,

And proffer up to Heav'n the warm request, That He who stills the raven's clam'rous nest,

And decks the lily fair in flow'ry pride, Would, in the way His wisdom sees the best,

For them and for their little ones provide; But chiefly, in their hearts with grace divine preside. O Scotia ! my dear, my native soil !

For whom my warmest wish to Heaven is sent; Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil

Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content ! And, oh, may Heav'n their simple lives prevent

From luxury's contagion, weak and vile! Then, howe'er crowns and coronets be rent,

A virtuous populace may rise the while, And stand a wall of fire around their much-loved Isle. O Thou! who pour'd the patriotic tide

That stream'd through Wallace's undaunted heart; Who dared to nobly stem tyrannic pride,

Or nobly die,-the second glorious part; (The patriot's God, peculiarly Thou art,

His friend, inspirer, guardian, and reward !) O never, never, Scotia's realm desert;

But still the patriot, and the patriot-bard, In bright succession raise, her ornament and guard ! 1. What are the signs of this chill No- 15. In what way do they sing God's vember day's close ?

praises ? 2. Why is the cotter glad when Satur- 16. With what do they sing, which is day night comes ?

better than the finest instrument? 3. Where is his cot situated ?

17. Name these church tunes, and char4. Who run to meet him?

acterize them. 5. What are the things that make him 18. What favourite portions may the forget his cares and toil?

father read in the Bible ? 6. How are the elder bairns employed 19. Which of the Apostles was banished during the week ?

to Patmos? 7. Name the eldest daughter.

20. Who is the saint, the father, and the 8. What may she be bringing with her husband ?

9. What thoughts fill the parents' minds 21. What glorious hope fills the bosom at seeing their children around them? of parents and children ?

10. How is this good mother employed ? 22. How are the “parent-pair” employed 11. How is the father employed ? when their family retire?

12. Repeat the several portions of the 23. What is the chief blessing they pray father's advice to them.

for to their children? 13. After supper in what holy exercise 24. Repeat the warm wishes of the bard do they engage?

in regard to his dear native land. 14. Describe the father as he holds the 25. Who will quote Joshua xxiv. 15, to Bible before him.



LONGFELLOW. Ce-lest'ial, adj. (L. coelum).

see eo). Ben-e-dic'tion, n. (L. bene, dico). Sub'urb, n. (L. sub, urbs). As-sume', v. (L. ad, sumo). Portal, n. (L. porta). Trans-i'tion, n. (L. trans, itum, Rap'ture, n. (L.raptum, see rapio).

There is no flock, however watched and tended,

But one dead lamb is there!
There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended,

But has one vacant chair !
The air is full of farewells to the dying,

And mournings for the dead;
The heart of Rachel," for her children crying,

Will not be comforted !

Let us be patient! These severe afflictions

Not from the ground arise,
But oftentimes celestial benedictions

Assume this dark disguise.
We see but dimly through the mists and vapours;

Amid these earthly damps,
What seem to us but sad funereal tapers,

May be heaven's distant lamps.
There is no Death! What seems so is transition ;

This life of mortal breath
Is but a suburb of the life Elysian,?

Whose portal we call death.
She is not dead,—the child of our affection,-

But gone unto that school
Where she no longer needs our poor protection,

And Christ himself doth rule.
In that great cloister's stillness and seclusion,

By guardian angels led,
Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution,

She lives, whom we call dead.
Day after day, we think what she is doing

In those bright realms of air ;
Year after year, her tender steps pursuing,

Behold her grown more fair.
Thus do we walk with her, and keep unbroken

The bond which nature gives;
Thinking that our remembrance, though unspoken,

May reach her where she lives. 1 Rachel, see Jeremiah xxxi. 15, and Matt. ii. 18.

2 Elysian, of or belonging to Elysium. Elysium, in ancient mythology, was a place assigned to the pious souls after death; furnished with rich fields, groves, shades, streams, &c.; the seat of happiness.

Not as a child 3 shall we again behold her,

For when with raptures wild
In our embraces we again enfold her,

She will not be a child ;
But a fair maiden, in her Father's mansion,

Clothed with celestial grace;
And beautiful with all the soul's expansion

Shall we behold her face.
And though at times, impetuous with emotion

And anguish long suppressed,
The swelling heart heaves moaning like the ocean,

That cannot be at rest.
We will be patient, and assuage the feeling

We may not wholly stay ;
By silence sanctifying, not concealing,
The grief that must have way.


CowPER. BOADICE'A lived in the middle of the first century, and was the wife of Prasutagus, the king of the Iceni, a tribe of Britons inhabiting Norfolk and Suffolk. Nero was at this time emperor; and Suetonius Paulinus, a general of great skill and energy, commanded in Britain. While Suetonius was occupied in attacking the Isle of Anglesey (then called Mona), Boadice'a was scourged and her daughters violated. The crime, however, brought its own punishment. The Iceni, and their neighbours the Trinobantes (who dwelt in what is now Essex and Middlesex), flew to arms. They first attacked and destroyed the Roman colony of Camalodunum (Colchester), and defeated a Roman legion which was coming to the relief of the place. The insurgents also massacred the Romans at Verolamium (St. Albans), and at London, which was then famous for its commerce. Tacitus says that the Romans and their allies were destroyed to the number of 70,000, many of whom perished under torture. Boadice'a killed herself by poison.--Knight's Cyclopædia. Dru-id, n. (Gr. drus).

Prog'e-ny, n. (L. pro, gigno). Re-sentment, n. (L. re, sentio). Mon'arch, n. (Gr. monos, archos).

WHEN THE British warrior Queen,

Bleeding from the Roman rods,
Sought, with an indignant mien,

Counsel of her country's gods ;
Sage beneath a spreading oak

Šat the Druid, hoary chief';
Every burning word he spoke

Full of rage, and full of grief:
Princess! if our aged eyes

Weep upon thy matchless wrongs,
'Tis because resentment ties

All the terrors of our tongues.
1 “Not as a child,"_see Isaiah lxv. 20, and 1 Cor. xiii. 11.

Rome shall perish_write that word

In the blood that she has spilt;
Perish hopeless and abhorr'd,

Deep in ruin as in guilt.
Rome, for empire far renown’d,

Tramples on a thousand states;
Soon her pride shall kiss the ground-

Hark! the Gaul is at her gates!
Other Romans shall arise,

Heedless of a soldier's name;
Sounds, not arms,

shall win the prize,
Harmony the path to fame.
Then the progeny that springs

From the forests of our land,
Arm’d with thunder, clad with wings,

Shall a wider world command.
Regions Cæsar never knew,

Thy posterity shall sway ;
Where his eagles never flew,

None invincible as they
Such the Bard's prophetic words,

Pregnant with celestial fire,
Bending as he swept the chords

Of his sweet but awful lyre.
She, with all a monarch's pride,

Felt them in her bosom glow:
Rush'd to battle, fought and died ;

Dying, hurld them at the foe.
Ruffians, pitiless as proud,

Heaven awards the vengeance due;
Empire is on us bestow'd,

Shame and ruin wait for you.


CowPER. “The comparison of the proud and the humble believer to the peacock and the pheas. ant, and the parallel between Voltaire and the poor cottager, are exquisite pieces of eloquence and poetry.”Campbell.

The self-applauding bird, the peacock, see-
Mark what a sumptuous Pharisee is he!
Meridian sun-beams tempt him to unfold
His radiant glories, azure, green, and gold:
He treads as it, some solemn music near,

His measured step were governed by his ear;
1 The modern Romans, the Italians, are passionately fond of music.
2 The ships of England.

3 The British, not the Romans.

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