NOW I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP.

It is said of the late John Quincy Adams that he never went to bed without repeating this little prayer,-the first taught him by his mother, whose memory was dear to him to the last. There are two little poems, descriptive of a child saying this prayer, that are among the tenderest in our language. We combine into one the best of both.

GOLDEN head so lowly bending,
Little feet so white and bare,
Dewy eyes, half shut, half opened,
Lisping out her evening prayer.

"Now I lay,"-repeat it, darling-
"Lay me," lisped the tiny lips
Of my daughter, kneeling, bending
O'er the folded finger tips.

"Down to sleep,"-" To sleep," she murmured,
And the curly head bent low;

"I pray the Lord," I gently added,

"You can say it all, I know."

"Pray the Lord,"-the sound came faintly,

Fainter still-"My soul to keep ;"

Then the tired heart fairly nodded,

And the child was fast asleep.

But the dewy eyes half opened

When I clasped her to my breast.
And the dear voice softly whispered,
"Mamma, God knows all the rest."

Oh, the trusting, sweet confiding

Of the child-heart! Would that I
Thus might trust my Heavenly Father,
He who hears my feeblest cry.

O, the rapture, sweet, unbroken,
Of the soul who wrote that prayer!
Children's myriad voices floating
Up to Heaven, record it there.

If, of all that has been written,

I could choose what might be mine,

It should be that child's petition,
Rising to the throne divine.

INFAMOUS LEGISLATION.-E. BURKE.

SINCE I had the honor-I should say the dishonor—of sitting in this house, I have been witness to many strange, many infamous transactions. What can be your intention in attacking all honor and virtue? Do you mean to bring all men to a level with yourselves, and to extirpate all honor and independence? Perhaps you imagine a vote will settle the whole controversy. Alas! you are not aware that the manner in which your vote is procured is a secret to no man.

Listen. For, if you are not totally callous, if your consciences are not seared, I will speak daggers to your souls, and wake you to all the pangs of guilty recollection. I will follow you with whips and stings, through every maze of your unexampled turpitude, and plant thorns under the rose of ministerial approbation. You have flagrantly violated justice and the law of the land, and opened a door for anarchy and confusion. After assuming an arbitrary dominion over law and justice, you issue orders, warrants, and proclamations, against every opporent, and send prisoners to your Bastile all those who have the courage and virtue to defend the freedom of their country. But it is in vain that you hope by fear and terror to extinguish the native British fire. The more sacrifices, the more martyrs you make, the more numer ous the sons of liberty will become. They will multiply like the hydra, and hurl vengeance on your heads.

Let others act as they will; while I have a tongue or an arm, they shall be free. And that I may not be a witness of these monstrous proceedings, I will leave the house; nor do I doubt but every independent, every honest man, every friend to England, will follow me. These walls are unholy, baleful, deadly, while a prostitute majority holds the bolt of parliamentary power, and hurls its vengeance only upon the virtuous. To yourselves, therefore, I consign you. Enjoy your pandemonium.

THE KNIGHT AND THE LADY.

REV. R. H. BARHAM.

Abridged, and adapted for Recitation, by Professor Rufus Adams.

THE Lady Jane was tall and slim,

The Lady Jane was fair

And Sir Thomas, her lord, was stout of limb,
And his cough was short, and his eyes were dim,
And he wore green "specs" with a tortoise shell rim,
And his hat was remarkably broad in the brim,
And she was uncommonly fond of him,—

And they were a loving pair!

And wherever they went, or wherever they came,
Every one hailed them with loudest acclaim;
Far and wide,

The people cried,

All sorts of pleasure, and no sort of pain,
To Sir Thomas the good, and the fair Lady Jane!

Now Sir Thomas the good, be it well understood,
Was a man of very contemplative mood,—
He would pour by the hour, o'er a weed or a flower,
Or the slugs, that came crawling out after a shower;
Black beetles, bumble-bees, blue-bottle flies,
And moths, were of no small account in his eyes;
An "industrious flea," he'd by no means despise,
While an "old daddy-long-legs," whose long legs and thighs
Passed the common in shape, or in color, or size,
He was wont to consider an absolute prize.
Giving up, in short, both business and sport, he
Abandoned himself, "tout entier," to philosophy.

Now as Lady Jane was tall and slim,

And Lady Jane was fair,

And a good many years the junior of him,

There are some might be found entertaining a notion,
That such an entire, and exclusive devotion,
To that part of science, folks style entymology,
Was a positive shame,

And, to such a fair dame,
Really demanded some sort of apology;

Ever poking his nose into this, and to that,-
At a gnat, or a bat, or a cat, or a rat,

At great ugly things, all legs and wings,

With nasty long tails, armed with nasty long stings;-
And eternally thinking, and blinking, and winking,
At grubs, when he ought of her to be thinking.

But no! ah no! 'twas by no means so
With the fair Lady Jane,

Tout au contraire, no lady so fair,

Was e'er known to wear more contented an air;
And-let who would call-every day she was there,
Propounding receipts for some delicate fare,
Some toothsome conserve, of quince, apple or pear,
Or distilling strong waters,- -or potting a hare,-
Or counting her spoons, and her crockery ware;
Enough to make less gifted visitors stare.

Nay more; don't suppose

With such doings as those

This account of her merits must come to a close;
No!-examine her conduct more closely, you'll find
She by no means neglected improving her mind;
For there all the while, with an air quite bewitching,
She sat herring-boning, tambouring, or stitching,
Or having an eye to affairs of the kitchen.

Close by her side,

Sat her kinsman MacBride,

Captain Dugald MacBride, Royal Scots Fusiliers ;-
And I doubt if you'd find, in the whole of his clan,
A more highly intelligent, worthy young man;
And there he'd be sitting,

While she was a-knitting,
Reading aloud, with a very grave look,

Some very "wise saw," from some very good book,—
No matter who came,

It was always the same,

The Captain was reading aloud to the dame,

Till, from having gone through half the books on the shelf, They were almost as wise as Sir Thomas himself.

Well it happened one day,

I really can't say

The particular month;-but I think 'twas in May,

'Twas I know in the spring-time, when "nature looks gay," As the poet observes,-and on tree-top and spray,

The dear little dickey birds carol away,

That the whole of the house was thrown into affright,

For no soul could conceive what was gone with the knight

It seems he had taken

A light breakfast,-bacon,

An egg, a little broiled haddock-at most

A round and a half of some hot buttered toast,
With a slice of cold sirloin from yesterday's roast.
But no matter for that,-

He had called for his hat,

ith the brim that I've said was so broad and so flat,

THE KNIGHT AND THE LADY.

REV. R. H. BARHAM.

Abridged, and adapted for Recitation, by Professor Rufus Adams.

THE Lady Jane was tall and slim,

The Lady Jane was fair

And Sir Thomas, her lord, was stout of limb,
And his cough was short, and his eyes were dim,
And he wore green "specs" with a tortoise shell rim,
And his hat was remarkably broad in the brim,
And she was uncommonly fond of him,-

And they were a loving pair!—
And wherever they went, or wherever they came,
Every one hailed them with loudest acclaim;
Far and wide,

The people cried,

All sorts of pleasure, and no sort of pain,
To Sir Thomas the good, and the fair Lady Jane!

Now Sir Thomas the good, be it well understood,
Was a man of very contemplative mood,-

He would pour by the hour, o'er a weed or a flower,
Or the slugs, that came crawling out after a shower;
Black beetles, bumble-bees, blue-bottle flies,
And moths, were of no small account in his eyes;
An "industrious flea," he'd by no means despise,
While an "old daddy-long-legs," whose long legs and thighs
Passed the common in shape, or in color, or size,
He was wont to consider an absolute prize.
Giving up, in short, both business and sport, he
Abandoned himself, "tout entier," to philosophy.

Now as Lady Jane was tall and slim,

And Lady Jane was fair,

And a good many years the junior of him,

There are some might be found entertaining a notion,
That such an entire, and exclusive devotion,
To that part of science, folks style entymology,
Was a positive shame,

And, to such a fair dame,
Really demanded some sort of apology;
Ever poking his nose into this, and to that,-

At a gnat, or a bat, or a cat, or a rat,

At great ugly things, all legs and wings,

With nasty long tails, armed with nasty long stings;-
And eternally thinking, and blinking, and winking,
At grubs,—when he ought of her to be thinking.