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VAIN was the man, and false as vain,
Who said,*" were he ordained to run
"His long career of life again,

"He would do all that he had done."-
Ah! 'tis not thus the voice that dwells
In sober birth-days speaks to me;
Far otherwise of time it tells,
Lavished unwisely, carelessly-
Of counsel mocked-of talents, made
Haply for high and pure designs,
But oft, like Israel's incense, laid
Upon unholy, earthly shrines.—

All this it tells, and could I trace

Th' imperfect picture o'er again,
With power to add, retouch, efface,

The lights and shades, the joy and pain,
How little of the past would stay!
How quickly all should melt away-
All-but that Freedom of the Mind,

Which hath been more than wealth to me;
Those friendships, in my boyhood twined,
And kept till now unchangingly,

And that dear home, that saving ark,

Where Love's true light at last I've found,
Cheering within, when all grows dark,
And comfortless, and stormy round.



JOHN MILTON, who is pre-eminently the divine

England, was

1608. His



in London on the 9th December, was a scrivener, and a person of aclearning. Milton educated with

the most sedulous care; and the intensity of his boyish laid the seeds of future blindness. After Cambridge, he remained for some time in retirein Buckinghamshire; and

ment at his father's

• Fontenelle.



some of exquisite minor pieces. When thirty, after a youth of severe study, he

to Italy," the most accomplished Englishman ever visited her classic shores." He returned to England about the breaking out of the civil and took an active


in public affairs. He came into office well; and, as the literary champion of the Commonwealth, many controversial pieces. Milton's which had long been weak, failed entirely in middle life, and the Paradise Lost, and his were all


preceded his death.


during the long

large poems,

of darkness

After the Restoration, the undauntof the Commonwealth could expect no

from the government; but he had been merciful in his of power, and some of the royalists whom he had

interfered for protection. He fled for a

; but, when the first danger was over,


London, where he after twenty-five married, and Milton was so beautiful in his youth, that he was the Lady of Christ's Church College. His was of a bright brown, and parted at the forehead, down upon his shoulders in those "hyacinthine curls" which he has to the father of mankind.

on the 8th of November, 1674, of total blindness. Milton was three a widow and three daughters.

an active fencer, and
he was well skilled. The
he became blind, is thus
he first rose he
Bible, and then studied
for an hour;



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He was

in the exercise, in of his domestic day, after by Johnson:- "When chapter read in the Hebrew twelve; then exercise then played on the organ and

sung, or heard another ; then studied six; then

visitors till eight; then supped; and, after

a pipe of

and a glass of water,

to bed."

JOHNSTONE'S Specimens.


CORALS abound chiefly in the tropical regions. These animals vary from the size of a pin's head to somewhat more than the bulk of a pea; and it is by the persevering efforts of creatures so insignificant, working in myriads,

and working through ages, that the enormous structures, called coral reefs, are erected.

The great coral reef of New Holland alone is a thousand miles in length, and its altitude cannot range to less than between one and two thousand feet. It is a moun

tain-ridge that would reach almost three times from one extremity of England to the other, with the height of Ingleborough, or that of the ordinary class of Scottish mountains. And this is the work of insects whose dimensions are less than those of a house-fly!

But what is even this. The whole of the Pacific Ocean is crowded with islands of the same architecture, the produce of the same insignificant architects. An animal barely possessing life, tied down to its narrow cell, ephemeral in existence, is daily, hourly, creating the habitations of men, of animals, of plants. It is founding a new continent; it is constructing a new world. These are among the wonders of His mighty hand; such are among the means He uses to forward his ends of benevolence.

If we have said that the coral insect is creating a new continent, we have not said more than the truth. Navigators now know that the Great Southern Ocean is not only crowded with those islands, but that it is crowded with submarine rocks of the same nature, rapidly growing up to the surface, where, at length overtopping the ocean, they are destined to form new habitations for man to extend his dominion. They grow and unite into circles and ridges, and, ultimately, they be come extensive tracts.-This process is equally visible in the Red Sea. That sea is daily becoming less and less navigable, in consequence of the growth of its coral rocks; and the day is to come, when perhaps one plain will unite the opposed shores of Egypt and Arabia.

But let us here also admire the wonderful provision which is made deep in the earth, for completing the work which those animals have commenced. It is the volcano and the earthquake that are to complete the structure, to elevate the mountain and form the valley, and to introduce beneath the equator the range of climate which belongs to the temperate regions, and to lay the great hy

draulic engine by which the clouds are collected to fertilize the earth, and which causes springs to burst forth and rivers to flow. And this is the work of one short hour. -If the coral insect was not made in vain, neither was it for destruction that God ordained the volcano and the earthquake. Thus also by means so opposed, so contrasted, is one single end attained. And that end is the welfare, the happiness of man. Universal Review.


UPON yon dial-stone

Behold the shade of time

For ever circling on and on,

In silence more sublime

Than if the thunders of the spheres

Pealed forth its march to mortal ears.

Day is the time for toil;

Night balms the weary breast;

Stars have their vigils; seas awhile

Will sink to peaceful rest :

But round and round the shadow creeps
Of that which slumbers not nor sleeps.

In beauty fading fast

Its silent trace appears,

And where a phantom of the past
Dim in the mist of years,

Gleams Tadmor o'er oblivion's waves,

Like wrecks above their ocean-graves.

Before the ceaseless shade,

That round the world doth sail,

Its towers and temples bow the head

The Pyramids look pale

The festal halls grow hush'd and cold-
The everlasting hills wax old!

Coeval with the sun

Its silent course began,

And still its phantom-race shall run
Till worlds with age grow wan-
Till darkness spread her funeral pall
And one vast shadow circle all.



THE mahogany is, perhaps, the most majestic of timbertrees; for though some rise to a greater height, this tree, like the oak and the cedar, impresses the spectator with the strongest feelings of its firmness and duration. In the rich valleys among the mountains of Cuba, and those that open upon the Bay of Honduras, the mahogany expands to so giant a trunk, divides into so many massy arms, and throws the shade of its shining green leaves, spotted with tufts of pearly flowers, over so vast an extent of surface, that it is difficult to imagine a vegetable production combining in such a degree the qualities of elegance and strength. The precise period of its growth is not accurately known; but as, when large, it changes but little during the life of a man, the time of its arriving at maturity is probably not less than two hundred years. Some idea of its size, and also of its commercial value, may be formed from the fact, that a single log, imported at Liverpool, weighed nearly seven tons,-was, in the first instance, sold for £378,-resold for £525,— and would, had the dealers been certain of its quality, have been worth £1000.

As is the case with much other timber, the finest mahogany-trees are not in the most accessible situations. They grow for the most part in the rich inland valleys, whence transportation is so difficult as to defy all the means of removal possessed by the natives. Masses of from six to eight tons are not very easily moved in any country; and in a mountainous and rocky one, where little attention is paid to mechanical power, to move them is impossible. In Cuba, the inhabitants have neither enterprise nor skill adequate to felling the mahogany-trees, and transporting them to the shore; and thus the finest timber remains unused.

The discovery of this beautiful timber was accidental, and its introduction into notice was slow. The first mention of it is, that it was used in the repair of some of Sir Walter Raleigh's ships at Trinidad, in 1597. Its finely-variegated tints were admired; but in that age the dream of El Dorado caused matters of more value to be neglected.

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