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truly attached, now met at market, and, miserable to say, at church, with dark and averted faces, like different clansmen during a feud. Vikt er in

Surely if any thing could have softened their hearts towards each other, it must have been to stand silently, side by side, while the earth, stones, and clods, were falling down upon their father's coffin. And doubtless their hearts were so softened. But pride, though it cannot prevent the holy affections of nature from being felt, may prevent them from being shown ; and these two brothers stood there together, determined not to let each other know the mutual tenderness that, in spite of them, was gushing up in their hearts, and teaching them the unconfessed folly and wickedness of their causeless quarrel.

A head-stone had been prepared, and a person came forward to plănt it. The elder brother directed him how to place it-a plain stone with a sand-glăss, skull

, and crossbones, chiselled not rudely, and a few words inscribed. The younger brother regarded the operation with a troubled eye, and said, loudly enough to be heard by several of the by-standers, “ William, this was not kind in you; you should have told me of this. I loved my father as well as you could love him. You were the elder, and, it may be, the favorite son ; but I had a right in nature to have joined you in ordering this head-stone, had I not ?"

During these words, the stone was sinking into the earth, and many persons who were on their way from the grave returned. For a while the elder brother said nothing, for he had a consciousness in his heart that he ought to have consulted his father's son in designing this lăst becoming mark of affection and respect to his memory, so the stone was plănted in silence, and now stood erect, decently and simply among the other unostentatious memorials of the humble dead.

The inscription merely gave the name and age of the deceased, and told that the stone had been erected “ affectionate sons." The sight of these words seemed to soften the displeasure of the angry man, and he said, somewhat more mildly, “ Yes, we

were his affectionate sons, and since my name is on the stone, I am satisfied, brother. We have not drawn together kindly of late years, and perhaps never may; but I acknowledge and respect your worth ; and here, before our own friends, and before the friends of our father, with my foot above his head, I express

by his my willingness to be on other and better terms with you, and if we cannot command love in our hearts, let us, at least, brother, bar out all unkindness.”

The minister, who had attended the funeral, and had something entrusted to him to say publicly before he left the church-yard, now came forward, and åsked the elder brother, why he spake not regarding this matter. He saw that there was something of a cold, and sullen pride rising up in his heart, for not easily may any man hope to dismiss from the chamber of his heart even the vilest guest, if once cherished there. With a solemn, and almost severe air, he looked upon the relenting man, and then, changing his countenance into serenity, said gently,

Behold how good a thing it is,

And how becoming well,
Together such as brethren are,

In unity to dwell. The time, the place, and this beautiful expression of a natural sentiment, quite overcame a heart, in which many kind, if not warm, affections dwelt; and the man thus appealed to, bowed down his head and wept. · Give me your hand, brother ;” and it was given, while a murmur of satisfaction arose from all present, and all hearts felt kindlier and more humanely towards each other.

As the brothers stood fervently, but composedly, grăsping each other's hand, in the little hollow that lay between the grave of their mother, long since dead, and of their father, whose shroud was haply not yet still from the fall of dust to dust, the minister stood beside them with a pleasant countenance, and said, “I must fulfil the promise I made to your father on his death-bed. I must read to you a few words which his hand wrote at an hour when his tongue denied its office. I must not say that you did your duty to your old father ; for did he not often beseech you, apart from one another, to be reconciled, for your own sakes as Christians, for his sake, and for the sake of the mother who bare you, and, Stephen, who died that you might be born? When the palsy struck him for the lost time, you were both absent, nor was it your fault that you were not beside the old man when he died.

As long as sense continued with him here, did he think of you two, and of you two alone.

Tears were in his eyes ; I saw them there, and on his cheek too, when no breath came from his lips. But of this no more. He died with this paper

in his hand; and he made me know that I was to read it to you over his grave. I now obey him.

• My sons, if you

will let my bones lie quiet in the grave, near the dust of your mother, depart not from my burial till, in the name of God and Christ, you promise to love one another as you used to do. Dear boys, receive my blessing.'”

Some turned their heads away to hide the tears that needed not to be hidden,-and when the brothers had released each other from a long and sobbing embrace, many went up to them, and, in a single word or two, expressed their joy at this perfect reconcilement. The brothers themselves walked away from the church-yard, arm in arin with the minister to the maħse. On the following Sabbath, they were seen sitting with their families in the same pew, and it was observed that they read together off the same Bible when the minister gave out the text, and that they sang together, taking hold of the same psalm-book. The same psâlm was sung, (given out at their own request,) of which

verse had been repeated at their father's grave; a larger sum than usual was on that Sabbath found in the plate for the poor, for Love and Charity are sisters. And ever after, both during the peace and the troubles of this life, the hearts of the brothers were as one, and in nothing were they divided.



Lines written in a Highland Glen.—Wilson.

To whom belongs this valley fair,
That sleeps beneath the filmy air,

Even like a living thing ?
Silent-as infant at the breast-
Save a still sound that speaks of rest,

That streamlet's murmuring!

The heavens appear to love this vale ;
Here clouds with unseen motion sail,

Or mid the silence lie !
By that blue arch, this beauteous earth,
Mid evening's hour of dewy mirth,

Seems bound unto the sky.

Oh! that this lovely vale were mine
Then from glad youth to calm decline,

My years would gently glide;
Hope would rejoice in endless dreams,
And Memory's oft-returning gleams

By peace be sanctified.
There would unto my soul be given,
From presence of that gracious Heaven,

A piety sublime;
And thoughts would come of mystic mood,
To make, in this deep solitude,

Eternity of Time !

And did I ask to whom belonged
This vale ?-I feel that I have wronged

Nature's most gracious soul !
She spreads her glories o'er the earth,
And all her children from their birth

Are joint heirs of the wholc !

Yea! long as Nature's humblest child
Hath kept her temple undefiled

By sinful sacrifice,
Earth's fairest scenes are all his own,
He is a monarch, and his throne

Is built amid the skies.


The young Herdsman.

-WORDSWORTH. From early childhood, even, as hath been said, From his sixth year, he had been sent abroad In summer to tend herds: such was his task Thenceforward till the latter day of youth. 0, then, what soul was his, when on the tops Of the high mountains, he beheld the sun Rise up and bathe the world in light! He lookedOcean and earth, the solid frame of earth, And ocean's liquid mass beneath him lay In gladness and deep joy. The clouds were touched, And in their silent faces did he read

Unutterable love. Sound needed none,
Nor any voice of joy ; his spirit drank
The spectacle; sensation, soul, and form,
All melted into him ; they swallowed up
His animal being; in them did he live,
And by them did he live; they were his life.
In such access of mind, in such high hour
Of visitation from the living God,
Thought was not; in enjoyment it expired.
No thanks he breathed; he proffered no request;
Rapt into still communion that transcends
The imperfect offices of prayer and praise,
His mind was a thanksgiving to the Power
That made him ;-it was blessedness and love !

A Herdsman, on the lonely mountain tops
Such intercourse was his; and in this sort
Was his existence oftentimes possessed.
Oh, then, how beautiful, how bright appeared
The written pronrise! He had early learned
To reverence the Volume which displays
The mystery,

the life that cannot die ;
But in the mountains did he feel his faith ;
There did he see the writing - all things there
Breathed immortality, revolving life,
And greatness still revolving ;-infinite !
There littleness was not ;—the least of things
Seemed infinite; and there his spirit shaped
Her prospects; nor did he believe,-he saw.
What wonder if his being thus became
Sublime and comprehensive ! low desires,
Low thoughts had there no place; yet was his heart
Lowly; for he was meek in gratitude,
Oft as he called those ecstasies to mind,
And whence they flowed ; and from them he acquired
Wisdom which works through patience; thence he learned
In many a calmer hour of sober thought,

on nature with an humble heart, Self-questioned where he did not understand, And with a reverential eye of love.

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