mast, and hoisted a sail, which, from the faulty con struction of the raft, proved to be of little utility.

The night closed on them, and brought with it additional horrors. The darkness was extreme, the wind began to rise, and the sea to swell. Most of the men, unused to the motion of a vessel, were incapable of standing, and were violently thrown against each other; they could barely resist the waves by holding ropes, which were fastened to the spars, or by lashing themselves to the timbers. At midnight the gale increased, and the sea ran more high. The roaring of the billows, and the howling of the wind, were mingled with the cries, prayers, groans, and curses, of the devoted sufferers on the raft. "This whole night," says M. M. Savigny and Correard, "we struggled against death, holding firmly by the ropes, which were strongly fastened. Tossed by the waves from the back to the front, and from the front to the back, and sometimes precipitated into the sea; suspended between life and death; mourning over our misfortunes, certain to perish, yet contending for a fragment of existence with that cruel element, which threatened to swallow us upSuch was our situation till day-break. Dreadful situation! How is it possible to form of it an idea, which does not fall infinitely short of the reality!"

TO BE RESUMED.

For the Pocket Magazine.

REFLECTIONS ON THE INSTABILITY OF LIFE,
AND ON

THE CERTAINTY OF DEATH.

"The thought of death indulge,
Give it its wholesome empire; let it reign,
That kind chastiser of the soul, in joy!"
YOUNG.

THAT life is uncertain, and death unavoidable, is a maxim which, though all admit to be true, all seem willing to forget. It is a maxim which has been so often reiterated, that none can be ignorant of it; and if any were disposed to disregard it, the perpetual oc

currence of its fulfilment might be sufficient for its establishment as an eternal truth.

Granting, then, that it be true, is it not a matter of such consequence as to demand our most serious attention? Can any one bestow on it even the slightest consideration, without feeling its importance, without perceiving that, regarding it merely as relating to a complete removal from this world, and all its concerns, independently of the reward or punishment which is to follow, it is a point of the utmost importance? Can any one reflect, as on a matter of no concern, on the being separated from all those whom he loves, and by whom he is beloved? Can he disregard the tears which will be shed, and the sighs which will burst from the bosoms of those whom filial or fraternal affection have bound to him? Can he think, unmoved, that he will no more augment their joy, or soothe their grief? that whatever danger may threaten them, he can no longer lend his assistance to avert it? and that whatever blessings may conjoin to make them happy, will be embittered by the reflection that he is not a sharer in them? He who can think on this without emotion, is more or less than man. Yet these are the consequences of that event, the occurrence of which to every one is certain, and the period at which it shall take place unknown. Can it be denied, then, that this is a matter demanding our most serious attention?

But the departure from this world, however affection or friendship may endear it to us, must ever be considered, by the virtuous, as a cause of joy, since it removes them from regions of darkness and of sin, to realms of light and of purity. Surely, then, he who wishes to make even his death contribute to the happiness of those whom he loved while living, will so conduct himself in this life, as to leave no anxious doubtings on their minds, with respect to his welfare in the life eternal. He will act so, that at the end he may look back with tranquillity, and forward with rapture; without regret for the past, or fear for the future. But the disposition of mind necessary for the attainment of a life, productive of this desirable conclusion, cannot be acquired except by a frequent and serious consideration, and a firm conviction of the

truth of the above maxim; since, without such conviction, the highest incentive to virtue would be wanting.

It is, then, not only the duty but the interest of every one to reflect, in a manner suitable to the importance of the subject, on the uncertainty of the present life, and on the consequent necessity of being prepared for the change which we know must take place, at some period, how near or how remote we are, by an all-wise Providence, kept ignorant. Nor can the wisdom that dictates this concealment be impeached. Were the time at which our dissolution should occur known to us, its remoteness, if distant, would breed indolent security; or its suddenness, if near, occasion terrors, which would prevent preparation for it.

We have hitherto regarded this subject only with reference to the departure from this world; let us now view it, as relating to the transition to another. And here its consideration will appear to be of infinitely greater consequence; since, by leading the life that a calm and rational view of it will suggest, an eternity of bliss is to be purchased; and, by the contrary, an eternity of punishment is to be incurred.

He who does but slightly meditate on this most important topic, will soon be convinced of the necessity of considering it more frequently and more earnestly; he will find that it is a matter of eternal import; that as life is uncertain, it is his duty to employ it well; and that as death is unavoidable, it is incumbent on him to be prepared for it. He will perceive that the pleasures of this life are few and transient, and its sorrows many and permanent; that his most perfect happiness is interrupted by the calamities which befal his friends, or destroyed by those which occur to himself. The tempest may annihilate his fortune; the perfidy of man may expel peace from his bosom; or the unrelenting hand of death may tear from his heart those whom he values more than his existence; but a full and perfect conviction of the important truth which we have endeavoured to inculcate, will enlighten his mind; it will convince him that these are but preparatory trials, the better to fit him for that blest abode, "where tempests never beat, nor billows roar," where

all is love, and joy, and happiness; where he shall meet the dear objects of his fondest solicitude, never again to be separated from them. How glorious a contrast does this present to even the most exalted state of sublunary bliss! The former is infinite, the latter narrow and circumscribed; the one is perfect, the other never without alloy; this is eternal, that of trifling duration. Can he hesitate in the choice? Surely not. Momentary reflection must produce unalterable decision; and that decision will lead him to a life of virtue, to a death of peace, and to an eternity of unutterable felicity.

The recommendation of this consideration may, perhaps, appear impertinent to some, and unnecessary to many. Those whom youth, health, and affluence contribute to render happy, will be offended by being reminded that youth, health, and affluence must have an end; but let them recollect, that every hour brings a diminution of their youth; that every joyous revel endangers their health; and that the day is fast approaching, which not all their wealth can retard for a single instant; the day in which death will separate them for ever from those vanities which they hold so dear let them remember also that he does not always wait the slow advances of old age; that he frequently surprises his victim amid the bloom of youth, and in the enjoyment of pleasure: if they give this but a moment's reflection, they will find that the recommendation, however unpleasant, is useful.

:

There is another class of persons who may deem it unnecessary to be told what they think they are already sufficiently acquainted with, through higher channels than this essay; but they will surely pardon this humble attempt, when they recollect that a truth of such universal interest cannot be too frequently reiterated; and that, as the instruments of temptation are indefatigable in their efforts to lure from the paths of virtue, the defence against them cannot be rendered too strong, nor extended too widely.

Much has been already said on this subject, and great talents have been employed in its illustration: I am not vain enough to imagine that I have brought forward any new arguments, or that I have been able to clothe those already before the world, in language

which might astonish by its sublimity, or fascinate by its elegance; I have not attempted to captivate the imagination by a false glitter of words; the subject itself is of so magnificent a nature, as neither to need, nor to be capable of receiving any additional lustre from the most resplendent mantle which human eloquence could throw over it. Stated in the plainest terms which language affords, it is still the same; incomparably splendid, inconceivably awful, universally interesting. It was a conviction of this, and a desire of presenting to the notice of the young, in a familiar way, what might be repulsive to them in a more voluminous or laboured form, that induced me to compose this little essay; in which I hope the goodness of the intention may be accepted as some apology for the defects of the execution; and should it meet the eye of one who has never seriously reflected on the important subject of which it treats; should it not only meet his eye, but find its way to his heart; should it be the instrument, humble as it is, of turning even one from darkness unto light, of showing him how to avoid irremediable perdition, and to acquire interminable bliss; I have not striven in vain. I consider the salvation of a single soul to be an infinitely greater triumph than the boasted achievements of the most celebrated warriors; whose trophies are purchased with the blood of thousands, and with the tears of millions. Sept. 6, 1818.

J. R.

THE ROMANCE OF THE NORTH;

Or, THE HISTORY OF ODIN.

Concluded from page 129.

All these conquests were made within a period of ten years. It was now more than thirty years since Odin quitted Asgard, and though neither he nor Freya 'could truly be said to be of an advanced age, and though the strength of their constitution, and the active and savage life which they had led, rendered it more than probable that they might yet enjoy many years of life and health, they deemed it advisable to terminate their career by a glorious death; and to secure, to their