casion to grieve that we have seen a sort of envy and jealousy among you, and an angry look when another child has got before you. Now you must take great care to guard against this; for if you encourage bud feelings and ill temper, this is undoing all the good that your learning could give you. It is very useful to be able to read and to write, and to cypher; but a right disposition is above all. You learn to read that you may read good books, and thus know what is right; but this will be of very little use, unless you take pains to cultivate a right spirit of mind. Be very watchful then on this point, and remember that a Christian education is to teach a Christian disposition.

! From Rivingtons' National School Magazine.

V.

To the Editor of the Cottager's Monthly Visitor. SIR

As I see you admit Poetry into your little Publication, I have sent you an extract from the Poem of "De Rancé," which I think may please some of your readers. De Rancé was Abbot of the famous Monastery of La Trappe, in France, and, in the early part of his life, he was a very dissipated and worthless character. But, struck with several remarkable instances of Providence in the preservation of his life, he retired from the world at the age of 37; and from that time 'till his death, devoted himself wholly to the duties of religion in his Abbaye of La Trappe. In the extract I have sent you, he is supposed to be lying on a sick bed in a peasant's cottage, whither he had been carried after a severe fall.

The lines begin where the Cottager is preparing for his evening duties of Prayer, reading the Holy Scriptures, and instructing his Children.

Extract from the Poem of De Rancé.
'Twas now the hour and through the door
Part open'd, might De Rancé see→›
How falsely those are deem'd the poor
Whose breasts are rich in Piety ! →→

-Oh how his pulse beat quick and high,
How rush'd the tear-drop to his eye,
As one by one, the little elan

Came trooping round the plain good man,
And won a smile, or stole a kiss,
The roses of their Paradise.

The greeting o'er, the happy sire.
Trims cheerly up his little fisoz
And strives to light in every eye
The ray of reverent gaiety;
For well he knew the car of youth,
Is trebly barred against the truth
That comes disfigur'd in the dress
Of cold and scowling wretchedness.-
He who the infant soul would move,
Must make it feel that God is Love
Then, when his watchful eye could trace
Joy thron'd upon each ruddy face,
De Rancé sees him raise his hand
To that high shelf where marshall'd stand
A few lean volumes, all his store;
→Small prize to him—of worldly lore.
High o'er the rest one volume stood-
It was the sacred book of God-
That book which to th' astonish'd eye
Unveils the present Deity

Which from the tossing couch of pain
Oft lifts us as with viewless chain,
And recreates the famish'd sense

With highest Heaven's magnificence,-
Then, as the rustic father took

With sun-burnt hand, that sacred book,
You saw the beam of gladness break
In sudden lustre o'er his cheek.-
He tries some touching page to find,
Such as might suit an infant mind-
He sought not long-for soon his eye.
Lights on the moving history,
Where He, the guilty world's high Lord,
By infant cherubim ador'd,

Bade" little children come

" and rest

Their heads upon His hallow'd breast.—
Finish'd the tale, the holy man
To school his little tribe began―

321

At once, arose that childish band,
At once, they seiz'd his horny hand,
And bade him guide them on the road
That leads to Happiness and God.-
Oh! if there be whose scornful eyes
The poor man's simple joys despise,
I would they had been there to see
What are the joys of Poverty;

To count the precious tears that start
Warm from a poor man's thankful heart.
He wept to see the golden morn
Of Piety thus early dawn;

He wept to see the breathing page

Thus gently touch their tender age;

Transform them as with Prophet's rod,

And make his child the child of God.

I have omitted many beautiful lines, but I was fearful of making my extract too copious for the limits of your little volume.

May 16th, 1825.

K. B.

A HYMN.

LORD of mercy and of might!
Of mankind the life and light!
Maker, Teacher, Infinite!

Great Creator, Saviour mild !
Humbled to a mortal child;
Captive, beaten, bound, revil'ď.

Thron'd above celestial things,
Borne aloft on angel's wings;
Lord of lords, and King of kings.

Destin'd to return again,
Judge of angels, judge of men,
Hear us now-and help us then.

Giving Decoction of Poppies to Children. 323

ON GIVING DECOCTION OF POPPIES TO
CHILDREN.

To the Editor of the Cottager's Monthly Visitor.
SIR,

You have often shown us that dangers arise from ignorance, as well as from intention; and, if you will have the goodness to insert the following few lines, you may perhaps be the means of preventing mischief. I had one day, lately, occasion to send for a nurse out of our village to attend my sick child. This nurse had an infant of her own which she brought with her; and we all of us expressed our surprise that her child slept so well, for she laid it upon a bed, and it actually seemed to be asleep during the whole of the day, which we remarked was convenient enough, though rather surprising." 0, Madam," said the woman, "I gave it a good dose of poppies before I came out. I gave it a matter of half a tea-cup full, and it has answered nicely."-I expressed my great astonishment at this, and told the woman that it appeared to me to be highly dangerous. "O dear, Ma'am," said she, "I often do it, I could not get on at all without it, when I want to be going about my work."-Before I heard this, Sir, I was not at all aware that such a practice prevailed, but I learned, from this woman, that many of the neighbours were in the habit of boiling down poppy heads, and using a strong decoction of them for the purpose which I have mentioned.

Pray, Sir, give a hint of this to your readers, as a warning against so dangerous a practice. We all know that laudanum and opium are procured from poppies, and that medical men sometimes give these, as well as syrup of poppies, to their patients, for the sake of lulling very severe pain, and for other purposes where they consider it to be needful; but this is always done with great caution; and ought by no

means to be attempted by an unskilful person in any case. To give poppies to an infant-especially when nothing is the matter with it, and in such large quantities too-must be full of danger, and the way to sow the seeds of disease which perhaps may never be got rid of.

I am, Sir, your constant Reader,

MATER

PSALM LXXX PARAPHRASED.

JEHOVAH! heaven's Almighty Lord,
Joseph's kind shepherd, Israel's guide,
Who by unnumbered worlds ador'd
Does o'er the mercy-seat abide !
When stern Manasseh grasps the spear,
And Ephraim bends the fatal bow,
Be thou, the God of battles near,

To hurl destruction on our foe:

Then let thy beams of grace and mercy shine,
Turn thou our hearts, O God! and make us wholly thine.

How long wilt thou deny relief,

Nor heed thy suppliant people's prayer?

We drink the bitter floods of grief,
And eat the bread of fierce despair.

The friends who sooth'd our former woe,
Reluctant from our side are torn;
And in their stead the vaunting foe

Marks our distress with ruthless scorn;

But let thy beams of grace and mercy shine,

Turn thou our hearts, O God! and make us wholly thine.

Was it for this from Egypt's land

Thou brought'st of old thy favor'd vine?
Bad'st it through all the courts expand,
O'er ev'ry hill its tendrils twine!
E'en haughty Edon veiled his pride,
And sought repose, beneath its shade;
Its branches deck'd Euphrates side,

And o'er the Arabian billows play'd.

We saw thy beams of grace and mercy shine,

Our hearts were turn'd, O God! and we were wholly thine.