CONCLUSION.

We have now concluded our instructions; and if, by our humble means, we shall have been instrumental in causing only one person to examine closely into the wonders which surround him in nature, and thereby enable him to while away a few hours which otherwise might have passed uselessly or heavily, we shall feel that we have not altogether laboured in vain.

Thoroughly are we convinced, that the man who studies intimately the works of the Creator, must thereby have his ideas of the mercy and goodness of that Almighty Being infinitely raised beyond what is ordinarily entertained, and must inevitably be led to the conclusion, that if" God so clothe the grass of the field, which to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into the oven," how much more will he not care for man, his last, greatest, and most perfect work; and to agree with the poet, that

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Every science, power, or art,

Which tends to foster in the heart
Knowledge of nature's laws,
Must, sanctified by grace divine,
Precept on precept, line on line,
Exalt the great First Cause !"

Or in the still more poetic and impressive language of Dr Chalmers:-"While the telescope enables us to see a system in every star, the microscope unfolds to us a world in every atom. The one instructs us that this mighty globe, with the whole burthen of its people and its countries, is but a grain of sand in the vast field of immensity-the other, that every atom may harbour the tribes and families of a busy population. The one shows us the insignificance of the world we inhabit-the other redeems it from all its insignificance, for it tells us, that in the leaves of every forest, in the flowers of every garden, in the waters of every rivulet, there are worlds teeming with life, and numberless as are the stars of the firmament. The one suggests to us, that above and beyond all that is visible to man, there may be regions of creation which sweep immeasurably along, and carry the impress of the Almighty's hand to the remotest scenes of the universe-the other, that within and beneath all that minuteness which the aided eye of man is able to explore, there may be a world of invisible beings; and that, could we draw aside the mysterious veil which shrouds it from our senses, we might behold a theatre of as many wonders as astronomy can unfold-a universe within the compass of a point, so small, as to elude all the powers of the microscope, but where the Almighty Ruler of all things finds room for the exercise of His attributes, where he can raise another mechanism of worlds, and fill and animate them all with evidences of His glory."

AND next in order sad, Old Age we found:
His beard all hoar, his eyes hollow and blind;
With drooping cheer still poring on the ground,
As on the place where nature him assigned
To rest, when that the sisters had untwined
His vital thread, and ended with their knife
The fleeting course of fast-declining life:

There heard we him with broke and hollow plaint
Rue with himself his end approaching fast,
And all for nought his wretched mind torment
With sweet remembrance of his pleasures past.
And fresh delights of lusty youth forewaste;
Recounting which, how would he sob and shriek,
And to be young again of Jove beseek!

But an the cruel fates so fixed be,
That time forepast cannot return again,
This one request of Jove yet prayed he

That in such withered plight, and wretched pain,
As eld, accompanied with her loathsome train,
Had brought on him, all were it wo and grief,
He might a while yet linger forth his life,

And not so soon descend into the pit;

Where Death, when he the mortal corpse hath slain,
With reckless hand in grave doth cover it:
Thereafter never to enjoy again

The gladsome light, but in the ground ylain,
In depth of darkness waste and wear to nought,
As he had ne'er into the world been brought:

But who had seen him sobbing how he stood
Unto himself, and how he would bemoan
His youth forepast—as though it wrought him good
To talk of youth, all were his youth foregone-
He would have mused, and marvelled much whereon
This wretched age should life desire so fain,
Yet know full well life doth but lengthen pain.
-THOMAS SACKVILLE (1536—1608).

REJECTED LOVE.

WHENCE Comes my love? Oh heart, disclose;
It was from cheeks that shamed the rose,
From lips that spoil the ruby's praise,
From eyes that mock the diamond's blaze:
Whence comes my wo? as freely own;
Ah me! 'twas from a heart like stone.

The blushing cheek speaks modest mind,
The lips befitting words most kind,
The eye does tempt to love's desire,
And seems to say 'tis Cupid's fire;
Yet all so fair but speak my moan,

Since nought doth say the heart of stone.

Why thus, my love, so kind bespeak

Sweet eye, sweet lip, sweet blushing cheek-
Yet not a heart to save my pain;

Oh Venus, take thy gifts again!

Make not so fair to cause our moan,
Or make a heart that's like our own.

-JOHN HARRINGTON (1534-1583).

SLEEP.

COME, sleep, oh sleep! the certain knot of peace,
The baiting place of wit, the balm of wo,
The poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release,
The indifferent judge between the high and low.

With shield of proof shield me from out the press
Of those fierce darts despair at me doth throw;
Oh make in me those civil wars to cease:
I will good tribute pay, if thou do so.

Take thou of me smooth pillows, sweetest bed;
A chamber, deaf to noise, and blind to light;
A rosy garland, and a weary head.

And if these things, as being thine by right,
Move not thy heavy grace, thou shalt in me
Livelier than elsewhere Stella's image see,
-SIR PHILIP SIDNEY (1554-1586).

-Ibid.

HIGHER ASPIRATIONS.

LEAVE me, oh Love! which reachest but to dust;
And thou, my mind, aspire to higher things,
Grow rich in that which never taketh rust:
Whatever fades but fading pleasure brings.

Draw in thy beams, and humble all thy might
To that sweet yoke where lasting freedoms be;
Which breaks the clouds, and opens forth the light,
That doth but shine and give us sight to see.

Oh! take fast hold, let that light be thy guide
In this small course which birth draws out of death,
And think how ill becometh him to slide,

Who seeketh heaven, and comes of heavenly breath.
Then farewell, world, thine uttermost I see;
Eternal Love, maintain thy life in me.

THE COUNTRY'S RECREATIONS.

HEART-TEARING cares and quivering fears,
Anxious sighs, untimely tears,

Fly, fly to courts,

Fly to fond worldling's sports;

Where strained sardonic smiles are glozing still,
And Grief is forced to laugh against her will;
Where mirth's but mummery,

And sorrows only real be.

Fly from our country pastimes, fly;
Sad troop of human misery!

Come, serene looks,

Clear as the crystal brooks,

Or the pure azured heaven that smiles to see
The rich attendance of our poverty.

Peace and a secure mind,

Which all men seek, we only find.

Abused mortals, did you know

Where joy, heart's ease, and comforts grow,
You'd scorn proud towers,

And seek them in these bowers;

Where winds perhaps our woods may sometimes shake,
But blustering care could never tempest make;
Nor murmurs e'er come nigh us,

Saving of fountains that glide by us.

Blest silent groves! Oh may ye be
For ever mirth's best nursery!
May pure contents

For ever pitch their tents

Upon these downs, these meads, these rocks, these
mountains,

And peace still slumber by these purling fountains,
Which we may every year

Find when we come a-fishing here!

-SIR WALTER Raleigh (1552-1618).

TO SLEEP.

CARE-CHARMER sleep, son of the sable night,
Brother to death, in silent darkness born,
Relieve my anguish, and restore the light,
With dark forgetting of my care, return.
And let the day be time enough to mourn
The shipwreck of my ill-advised youth;
Let waking eyes suffice to wail their scorn,
Without the torments of the night's untruth.
Cease, dreams, the images of day-desires,
To model forth the passions of to-morrow;
Never let the rising sun prove you liars,
To add more grief, to aggravate my sorrow.
Still let me sleep, embracing clouds in vain,
And never wake to feel the day's disdain.

-S. DANIEL (1562—1619).

THE SHEPHERD'S INVITATION.

COME live with me, and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, and hills and fields,
Woods or steepy mountains yields.

And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.