Wakefield was sold for a trifle to save him from prison; Fielding lies in the burying-ground of an English factory; Savage died in prison; Chatterton destroyed himself; and John Keats died of a broken heart.

RICHARD BAXTER PARAPHRASED BY WORDSWORTH.In some of the best passages of the "Excursion," Wordsworth had the good sense to become indebted for his ideas to old authors, such as Richard Baxter. The following passage presents striking coincidences of language as well as of thought: "I find that it is comparatively easy to me to be loose from this world, but hard to live by faith alone. To despise earth is easy to me; but not so easy to be acquainted and conversant in heaven. I have nothing in this world which I could not easily let go; but to get satisfying apprehensions of the other world is the great and glorious difficulty."-"Life of Baxter," published by the Religious Tract Society, p. 127.

"Tis, by comparison, an easy task

Earth to despise; but to converse with heaven-
This is not easy: to relinquish all

We have, or hope, of happiness and joy,

And stand in freedom loosened from this world,
I deem not arduous; but must needs confess

That 't is a thing impossible to frame
Conception equal to the soul's desires;
And the most difficult of tasks to keep
Hights which the soul is competent to gain."

"Excursion," p. 147, 2d ed., 1820.

DESTRUCTION OF PHARAOH.-Your correspondent, M., in the May Repository, inquires for evidence that Pharaoh was drowned with his host in the Red Sea, at the same time expressing a doubt whether any such evidence exists. In reply, I would refer to Psalm cxxxvi, 15: "Who overthrew Pharaoh and his host in the Red Sea." It appears to me that this settles the question. True, it is said that kings were not accustomed to go out to battle, but that they did at times, all history bears testimony, and I see no legitimate way of explaining away the language of the Psalmist, when he praises God "who overthrew Pharaoh and his host in the Red Sea." L. F.

[The verse which our correspondent quotes, unsupported by other Scripture, might be considered as only an expression of the overthrow of Pharaoh and his empire, as we sometimes say that Napoleon and his empire were overthrown at Waterloo. The best Biblical critics, however, take this passage as a proof of Pharaoh's personal destruction; but there are other passages which, we think, even alone, contain the strongest presumption, if not positive evidence, in favor of the view which our correspondent takes. Let our readers turn to the Mosaic account, in Exodus, the fourteenth chapter, and they will see that Pharaoh accompanied his hosts in person: "And he made ready his chariot, and took his people with him." Now let them compare with this the statement in Psalm evi, 11: "The waters covered their enemies: there was not one of them left." The promise of the Almighty that he would be honored upon Pharaoh and upon all his host, seems to require for its fulfillment the destruction of Pharaoh himself, as well as that of his army; and if there were no testimony to favor this view, we would naturally take it so long as there is no evidence to the contrary.]

MOHAMMEDAN SYMBOL.-The crescent was the sym bol of the city of Byzantium, and was adopted by the Turks. This device is of ancient origin, as appears from several medals, and took its rise from an event thus related by a native of Byzantium. "Philip, the father of Alexander the Great, meeting with great difficulties in carrying on the siege of this city, set the workmen one dark night to undermine the walls. Luckily for the besieged, a young moon suddenly appearing, discovered the design, which accordingly miscarried, in acknowledgment whereof the Byzantines erected a statue to Diana, and the crescent became the symbol of the state."

The above account, if correct, points out the period when the device was adopted, probably antecedent to 336 B. C., when the death of Philip took place.

In Leland's Life of Philip of Macedon, it is related that at the siege of Byzantium, a bright meteor appeared in the air.

"The meteor which had appeared so opportunely to direct their motions, the Byzantines ascribed to the peculiar favor of the gods, and in the ardor of their acknowledgments dedicated a statue to Hecate, before which a lamp was kept burning continually by night and day to express their gratitude to the goddess, who had been pleased, in so effectual and seasonable a manner, to supply the absence of her luminary."

66

66

SLANG: ORIGIN OF THE TERM.-The noun substantive-slang, means cant language;" as a verb, however, it signifies "to abuse" or use insulting language to." I would suggest that, in the latter sense, it may have been first used by our military men in the time of Queen Anne, and that it not improbably was derived from the name of the Dutch General, Slangenberg, who was notorious for his vituperative language and abuse, of Marlborough in particular; the consequence of which was, that he was ultimately removed from the command of the Dutch forces.

R.

SNUFF AND TOBACCO.-It is perhaps not generally known that the custom of taking snuff is of Irish origin. In a "Natural History of Tobacco," in the Harleian Misc., i, 535, we are told that:

"The Virginians were observed to have pipes of clay before ever the English came there; and from those barbarians we Europeans have borrowed our mode and fashion of smoking. The Irishmen do most commonly powder their tobacco, and snuff it up their nostrils, which some of our Englishmen do, who often chew and swallow it."

...

That the clay pipe was the original smoking apparatus in England, is evident from the following lines in Skelton's Eleanor Rummin. After lamenting the knavery of that age compared with King Harry's time, he continues:

"Nor did that time know,
To puff and to blow,
In a peece of white clay,

As you do at this day,

With fier and coale,

And a leafe in a hole," etc.

MINOR QUERY.-Will you, or some of your correspondents, inform me when, why, and by what authority, the Sabbath was changed from the seventh to the first day of the week? HETTY.

SPRINGTIDE. It was a lovely September afternoon; the soft breeze scarce ruffled the sails of the stately ships that floated on the calm sea. All was still, save when an occasional shout broke from a merry group of children engaged in building mimic towns upon the sands. After a time, two of the little company stole away from the scene of their labors, and were soon hid from the others by the rugged rocks with which the Jersey coast was strewn for miles around.

The name of the little girl was Ellie Grierson-a bright-eyed, active child of twelve. Her companionArthur Seyton-was a tall, slight boy, two or three years older than herself.

The shadows lengthened, as hour after hour of the bright afternoon flew by, and still the two scrambled on unweariedly over stones and sea-weed. They had discovered a very curious rock, which was worn by the destructive force of the tide into all manner of odd shapes.

"Here is a perfectly-shaped arm-chair, Arthur; I can seat myself in it so comfortably! Is it not very curious?"

"Very; and here is nearly as good a sofa." "No," said Ellie, shaking her head, "my chair is the best!"

"There are many queer rocks hereabouts," said Arthur; "how easily one could imagine a churchyard down yonder! those stones are the very shape of tombstones."

"I do n't see the resemblance," returned Ellie. "I could fancy, instead, a number of people bending down to dig up sand-eels."

Shut in as they were among the rocks, the children little imagined the rapid progress the tide was making, so gently and noiselessly did the little waves wander in among the stones.

"Arthur! Arthur!" shouted Ellie, clapping her hands, 'come here quickly: I have found a cave in the rock!"

Arthur stood by her side in a moment.

"So you have! I did not know there was a cave here! but other people did, however, for here are rude sorts of steps cut out in the stone up to the entrance."

"Come and let us investigate it, Arthur. I never have been in a cave before."

"Certainly: only take care you do not fall on the slippery steps."

Ellie uttered an exclamation of delight, as, after passing through a long, narrow passage, they entered a large cavern. At first she could see nothing; but her eyes soon grew accustomed to the dim light, and she looked round in astonishment at the vaulted room in which she found herself.

afraid of being overheard by the fairies with which tradition peoples the caves."

"Is there any story about this one?"

"Very likely there is; but I do n't happen to know it. I don't believe there is a cave that has not some legend belonging to it. There is one in Guernsey, which is said to have been built in the night by a band of fairies."

"I am sure the fairies would have the good taste to prefer grassy mounds and flowery meadows to a gloomy cave like this!"

"I quite agree with you, Ellie-it would be a much fitter place of abode for the black dwarfs and trolls." Ellie examined the cavern attentively for a long time, while Arthur told her all the anecdotes he remembered relating to caves. At last she said, "But, Arthur, look! there is another opening: perhaps we may find another room."

"You had better take care, Ellie. It is said of a cave in the Western Islands that, whoever penetrates to the end returns without his skin."

Ellie laughed. "It would be better to come back wanting one's skin than not to come back at all. But, Arthur," she continued, as she pointed toward them with her hand, "look how the walls glitter! Do knock me off a piece of them!"

"Certainly, if I had a stone to do it with; but it is so dark here. O, here is one that will do. Now, Ellie, we must hurry back!"

"O, wait; here is such a pretty bit: do give it to me!"

True is the saying, "Most haste worst speed." Arthur's efforts to be speedy only made him longer. "What is the matter, Arthur? Why have you taken such a sudden restless fit?" said Ellie, looking at him with surprise.

"We have been away a very long time, and the others will be wondering where we are: besides "— "Besides what?"

"I have quite forgotten to look at the tide, and it may be quite near us for all we know."

were.

"Nonsense; we would hear it much plainer if it What odd little caves those are in the wall; where do they lead to?" "Tradition says to the center of the earth; but that 's humbug. Do come away now."

But Ellie was headstrong and insisted on exploring every one of the little fissures before she would quit the spot; even then she lingered in spite of Arthur's efforts to hurry her.

"How funny you look!" she said, laughing. "What are you in such a state about? It would be great fun if the tide had come in!"

"Ellie, you do n't know what you are saying," said Arthur, as, grasping her hand tightly, he drew

"What a tiresome boy you are!" said Ellie, halflaughing, half-provoked. "We have been only a short time in the cave."

Ellie's face grew paler and paler as she looked forth on the expanse of waters that lay around them, only broken by the rocks that here and there raised their rugged heads above the tide.

"O, Arthur, how dreadful! How can we get away?"

But Arthur did not answer. He was looking eagerly from side to side. He saw but too clearly the danger of their situation-all mode of exit cut off by the deep water that washed the base of the rock on which they stood. His look was answer enough for Ellie; and, covering her face with her hands, she burst into tears.

"O, Arthur! I have been very wrong! If I had not kept you so long in the cave we would have been safe. I was very, very wicked!"

"Hush, dear! do n't reproach yourself; it is of no use; and I can't bear to hear you: and do n't cry so dreadfully! Perhaps we may be saved yet."

Ellie lifted her head and looked around on the placid sea, dotted by the distant sails of the many ships "bound on their voyage home."

"The water looks so clear and beautiful, Arthurit can't be so cruel as to drown us! O no, no-we can't be drowned!"

Arthur did not hear her: he was gazing with compressed lips at something on the rock by his side. It was a small piece of sea-weed: he put his hand and touched it: it was damp and growing to the rock. Tearing it off with an impatient jerk, he flung it into the sea: he watched it unconsciously as it was washed to and fro by the ripple; then he turned and looked at Ellie. She was leaning her little pale face on her hand, her eyes fixed wistfully on the distant cliffs of France. He hastily swallowed down something that would rise in his throat as he looked at her; and, bending over the rock, he watched the water with an aching eagerness. Yes, it was rising; that was only too evident. He started up. "O, Ellie! Ellie! if there was only something I could do-some way of escape I could try for you, however dangerous! But it is madness to stay doing nothing, and see those waters rising higher and higher." And he stamped his foot excitedly.

There was a few moments' silence; then Ellie rose, and laying her hand on his arm, looked up in his face with an earnest look in her blue eyes-"Do n't speak so, dear Arthur! I do n't think God will let us be drowned. Just as you spoke the verse I read this morning came into my head-'Why are ye so fearful, O ye of little faith?'"

Arthur was silent, and stood thinking for a little; at last he said, "Let us go into the cave again, Ellie. There is no chance of escape here; perhaps we may find some place in the walls to which we can climb up. I have heard that in some caves the water only covers the surface of the floor."

Ellie allowed herself, somewhat unwillingly, to be

led from the fresh air back into the dark cavern. Then shutting her eyes she leaned in silence against the rock, while Arthur eagerly investigated the damp walls. "Ellie!" he exclaimed, "look! here is the very thing; do you see that sort of little shelf in the rock?"

"Yes, but can we reach it?"

"I think so: you know we are both good climbers."

After a little difficulty Arthur succeeded in reaching the crevice, and lay down so as to stretch his arm as far down as possible.

"Now, Ellie, put your foot there and take hold of that stone, and raise your left foot, and you will find another resting-place. Capital! Now raise your hand and I will try to reach you-well done!"

Ellie drew a breath of relief when she found herself seated side by side with Arthur, and asked him in a cheerful voice if he thought they would be safe where they were.

"I can not tell, Ellie; we can only hope so."

This was not encouraging, and Ellie said no more, but looked round the cave, feeling very "eerie," for it was growing darker and darker as the evening shades crept on without.

"What are you thinking about, Ellie?" said Arthur, as he felt her tremble.

"Those lines of the song Lucy sang last night will run in my head."

"What lines, dear?"

Ella repeated, in a voice which she tried in vain to make steady,

"They rowed her across the rolling foam,
The hungry, cruel foam,
The cruel, crawling foam

To her grave beside the sea.""

"Try and think of something else."

"I have been trying for long and I can not."

Ellie started, a few minutes after, as the cave gave back the rich tones of Arthur's voice, as he sang the beautiful hymn

"Jesus, lover of my soul,

Let me to thy bosom fly,
While the waters nearer roll,
While the tempest still is nigh.
Hide me, O my Savior! hide,
Till the storm of life be past,
Safe into the haven guide,

O receive my soul at last!'"

He sang steadily through the verses, and Ellie thought the words had never before seemed so beautiful as they did now. Soothed and comforted she hardly knew how, she leaned back wearily against the rock, for she was thoroughly worn out by the long day spent in scrambling among the rocks. Unlike Arthur, she did not realize the hopelessness of their situation. She knew they were in danger, but Ellie had a child's simple faith in God, and having asked him to take care of her and Arthur, she felt secure in his protection. Her heavy eyes gradually closed, and in a little while her head fell on Arthur's shoulder, and she was fast asleep.

"Poor little Ellie!" said Arthur to himself, as he drew her cloak closer round her, "what a mercy it is that she can sleep so peacefully!"

Hour followed hour, and Ellie slept on, while Arthur listened to the monotonous ripple of the water, and the shrill cry of the sea-bird, as it flew by to seek its nest among the cliffs. The cave was now quite dark, and, from the sound of the waves, he was expecting to feel the tide break against him every moment, when a moonbeam came floating in along the water. Arthur's heart died within him, as with it came the remembrance of Willie's words, uttered in the morning, and forgotten till that moment, "It is full moon to-night, and there will be a spring tide." A spring tide! All hope was gone now, and he knew that a little later the cave would be full. He held the sleeping Ellie in a despairing clasp, and counted the precious moments that yet remained before the waters should swallow them up.

Arthur had thought of death before. He had often dreamed of falling on some glorious battle-field, and being borne to his grave to the sound of martial music, leaving an honored name behind him; but it was a very different thing rushing forward to meet death amid the roar of cannon, the trumpet's blast, and the shouts of the battle, to awaiting it in a dismal cave among the rocks, like a condemned criminal the hour of his execution, imprisoned by the rippling waves as securely as the felon by the massive walls and fron bolts of his prison.

Time wore on, but Arthur grew calmer as the tide rose higher. His defiant feelings had died away, and he felt how vain it was to struggle against God's will; and though his dreams of earthly glory had faded, would the welcoming songs of the angels be less sweet, his golden crown less bright on that account? While he was thus thinking a little ripple passed gently over his foot, and though it was what he had been expecting, he recoiled as if struck by a sudden blow. Ellie still slept; she did not feel the large tear that fell on her brow as he bent over to catch the murmured words that she uttered in her

sleep. She was dreaming of home: she said Willie's name and laughed aloud. Arthur shuddered involuntarily as the cavern walls echoed back the light laugh with a hollow sound. Was it right to let Ellie sleep on, dreaming so unconsciously, with death and eternity so near? And yet how to waken her, and tell her that all hope was gone! Arthur could not find courage to do it; he smoothed back with a trembling hand the heavy hair from the brow of the little sleeper, and let the time slip on, while he listened to her quiet breathing. How could she sleep so soundly? Was it indeed the sleep "He giveth his beloved?" and would she be spared all suffering, and only waken to find herself in heaven?

At last Ellie moved restlessly, for the tide had by this time reached their resting-place, and was flowing gently over her feet, which were curled up upon the rock. Arthur was bending down to awaken her gently, when a sound from without caused him to start violently, and then shout aloud with all the strength he could muster. He hardly knew his own voice so hoarse and changed did it sound! He shouted again-this time accompanied by a piercing cry from Ellie, who had wakened in alarm; and, terrified at finding herself in the water, clung, shrieking, to him.

An answering shout from a well-known voice-the sound of oars-a lantern's light gleaming on the walls, and a boat forces its way into the cave.

"Thank God! we are in time!" burst from the lips of Ellie's father, as he lifts his little daughter into the boat; and Arthur returns, convulsively, the grasp of his brother's outstretched hand.

A little longer and the boat nears the shore; and as the boatman's cheering shout brings joy to the anxious hearts of the group assembled there, Arthur looks back to the scene of the past danger and thinks of Ellie's verse-"Why are ye so fearful, O ye of little faith!"-Sharpe's Magazine.

EVIL COMMUNICATIONS.-Safer is that man, who, distrusting self, relies on Omnipotent strength to preserve him in the midst of allurements and temptations. He who daily utters the prayer, "Lead us not into temptation," will seek to avoid not only the evil, but the very appearance of evil. The story of Alypius shows how easy it is to fall into hurtful and dangerous lusts when once vain curiosity or unrighteous desire is indulged.

Alypius, a friend of St. Augustine, was accustomed to hold in the utmost horror and detestation the gladiatorial combats, which were exhibited in the age in which he lived. Being invited one day, by his companions, to be a spectator of those inhuman sports, he refused to go. They, however, insisted on his accompanying them, and drew him along against his will. When they had all taken their seats the games commenced. Alypius shut his eyes, that objects so abominable might not pollute his mind. "Would to God," said Augustine, "he had also stopped his ears!" For having heard a great cry, he suffered himself to be conquered by his curiosity, and opened his eyes to see what it was, imagining

that he still retained the power of shutting them. One of the combatants was wounded. No sooner did he behold the purple stream issuing from the body of the unhappy wretch, than, instead of turning away his eyes, they were arrested on the object, and became intoxicated with those brutal combats. He was no longer the same man: he, by degrees, imbibed the sentiments of the multitude around him, joined in their shouts and exclamations, and carried away from the

amphitheater a violent passion for returning; and not only

did he go the second time with those who had insnared him, but he himself enticed others. Yet this man began at first with an abhorrence of such criminal amusements, and resolved to take no part in them; but sad experience taught him, that the best resolutions are insufficient to withstand so great temptation; and that the only way to escape danger is to keep at a distance from it.

May our young people learn by this example to distrust their own courage and resolution, and to shun the entertainments of the stage, and all such diversions, which may prove as injurious to them as these did to Alypius!

READING.-Lord Bacon's terse, Essay on Books is well known, and his sentiment respecting reading,

writing, and conversation is often quoted. No one more than himself knew the value of reflection in the discipline of the mind; but reading must supply the material for a healthy mental action:

Three very excellent things, and of great utility, are reading, conversation, and reflection. By reading, we treat with the dead; by conversation, with the living; and by reflection, with ourselves. Reading enriches the memory, conversation polishes the mind, and reflection informs the judgment. But of these noble employments of the soul, were we to say which we think the most important, we must confess that reading seems the ground-work of the other two; since without reading, contemplation is fruitless and conversation dull and insipid.

IMMOBILITY OF COUNTENANCE.-Few persons have so great a command over their countenance as not to betray the emotions which are passing within. In the school of diplomatists, according to the worldlywise policy of courts and governments, this is a faculty of no small account. Talleyrand possessed it in a remarkable degree. Says a celebrated English letter-writer, speaking of the perfect want of all expression in Talleyrand's countenance:

Such was the parchment-like character of his face, that if you were looking at him full in the eye, and a man were to salute him behind with a kick, you would not suppose from his countenance that any thing had happened.

INDUSTRY.-Said the distinguished Chatham to his son, afterward Premier of the English Cabinet:

I would have inscribed on the curtains of your bed and the walls of your chamber, if you do not rise early, you can never

make any progress in any thing. If you do not set apart your hours of reading; if you suffer yourself, or any one else, to break in upon them, your days will slip through your hands, unprofitable, and frivolous, and really unenjoyed by yourself.

REPUBLICAN SIMPLICITY.-An English writer thus describes a visit to the President of the United States at the White House. He seems surprised to find a total absence of court ceremonial and flummery, and remarks upon the extreme simplicity of our republican government:

If you desire to see the chief magistrate of the country by day, you walk up to a diminutive and exceedingly plain room on the second floor, where his private apartments are! Only a few maps, and a small print of Washington, adorn this most unpretending of all official apartments. A table stands in the middle of the room surmounted by a few newspapers; and you are, perhaps, engaged in perusing one of them, when an unassuming-looking gentleman, the President of the mighty republic, suddenly enters, and, taking you by the hand, says he is "glad to see you." If welcome, or of note, you will be conducted by him into a room half the dimensions, and plainer still. It is his private closet, or sitting-room, and its aspect is positively bald. Scarcely a letter or vestige of paper is to be seen on the table, and some large books of reports alone adorn the walls. The President, too, is just as unpretending as he looks, and, though eminently self-possessed, as unassuming as his apartment. It is difficult to conceive the ruler of a great country so plain-and so plain without the slightest loss of dignity. He addresses all as if they were on a perfect level with himself; and, truth to say, they are so, equally now and on his descent from power. He is rarely, however, treated without respect; and it frequently becomes necessary for him, on the other hand, to show that he is a thorough wide-awake man of the world. The customers he meets with are sometimes rough, the applications he receives are often strange; and it consequently becomes necessary for

him to become emphatic. Having no place to ask for, of course we were made unusually welcome, aud honored with an interview so long that we should have felt ourselves guilty of intrusion, had we not heard the crowd of hungry appli cants stamping by the adjoining door.

THE THOUGHTLESSNESS OF WORLDLY MEN.-William Wilberforce thus writes:

Often, while in the full enjoyment of all that this world could bestow, my conscience told me that, in the true sense of the word, I was not a Christian. I laughed, I sang, I was apparently gay and happy; but the thought would steal across me-what madness is all this, to continue easy in a state in which a sudden call out of the world would consign me to everlasting misery, and that when eternal happiness was within my grasp!

EPICUREAN PHILOSOPHY.-The teachings of Epicu rus have been often misinterpreted, and especially his doctrine that pleasure is man's highest earthly good. They who confine pleasure to sensuous delights are not true followers of the old philosopher; for in his estimation the pleasures resulting from a virtuous habit and an active mind transcend all oth

ers:

One of his maxims was, that "a happy and immortal being had neither any thing to do himself nor occasioned em. ployment for others." This was even among the Greeks deemed impious, because he denied Providence; nevertheless, it seems to be the philosophy of the idle part of mankind to this day; for they neither do any thing themselves, nor acknowledge the care of Providence.

DIRECT SUPPLICATION.-Right pleasant is the following anecdote illustrating the benefit of immediate supplication to the Almighty:

At a time, not very remote, when the Duke of Gordon and all the lords of that family were Roman Catholics, a Protestant, not unknown to his grace, rented a small farm under him near Huntley Castle, and from some cause had fallen be hindhand in his payments. A vigilant steward, in the Duke's absence, seized the farmer's stock for arrears of rent, and advertised it by the parish crier to be rouped, or sold at auction, on a fixed day. The Duke happily returned in the interval. His tenant, who knew the road, made the best of his way to him. "What is the matter, Donald?" said the Duke, as he saw him enter melancholy. Donald told his sorrowful story in a concise and natural manner. It touched the Duke's heart and produced an acquittance in form. Staring, as he cheerily withdrew, at the pictures and images, he expressed a curiosity to know what they were. "These," said the Duke with great condescension, "these are the saints who intercede with God for me." 66 "My lord Duke," said Donald, "would it not be better to apply yourself directly to God himself? I went to muckle Sawney Gordon, and to little Sawney Gordon; but, an' I 'd not come to your guid grace's self, I could not ha' got my discharge, and baith I and my bairns had been harried."

PURE ENGLISH.-Almost all our noblest sentiments are clothed in pure Saxon English words. Southey, in writing to his friend Bishop Taylor, of Norwich, thus rebukes the habit of interlarding essays in the English language with scraps of French and Latin:

Let us have your ideas in English—the perspicuous Englishsuch as mere English readers can understand. Ours is a noble language, a beautiful language. I can tolerate a Germanism for family sake; but he who uses a Latin or a French phrase, where a pure old English word does as well, ought to be hung, drawn, and quartered for high treason against his mother tongue.