it their honour and privilege publicly to express it, and to promote the cause of vital Christianity in a variety of ways.

They afford very efficient help to the missions carried on by the Moravians in the Christian and heathen world. It may be truly asserted that Basle, with its comparatively small population, has for many years taken, and still is taking, a prominent part in advancing the cause of humanity and Christianity both at home and abroad; but with equal truth it may be stated, that its benevolent and pious inhabitants have, in the midst of all trials and difficulties, richly experienced the fulfilment of that gracious promise, "that those who water

others, should also be watered themselves."

The Rev. Mr. Falneissen, rector of the cathedral, is president of the Basle Bible Society, and the Rev. Mr. Von Brun, vicar of St. Martin's church, of the Missionary Society. Among their committee members there are some truly benevolent merchants, who not merely lend the most active aid to the clergy in conducting the business of these institutions, but some of whom have generously set apart a certain sum of money as a trading capital, all the profits of which is placed at the disposal of the Missionary committee; and they nobly determined themselves to bear any loss which they might happen to sustain in the employment of that capital. The annual income of the Missionary Society amounted in the first years only to a few thousand Swiss francs, but in the year 1835 it exceeded the sum of 86,000 francs, (upwards of £5,000.) Among its munificent benefactors there are several distinguished members of princely houses in Germany, while, at the same time, thousands of pious peasants most cheerfully present their humble offerings on this altar of Christian charity.

TINTERN ABBEY.

BY THE REV. W. L. NICHOLS, M.A.

ELOQUENT ruin! that, with hoary brow,
Tell'st thine old tale of frailty and decay,
And speak'st of man's vicissitude, to man!
Awe-struck, I tread thy grassy courts, and own
The spirit of the place, and feel the power
Of old religion, lingering still beside
Her prostrate shrines and altars cold, inviting
To meditation and to solemn thought.

I dream of what thou wast, and thy dim aisles
People with airy shapes, and seem to hear
The chant of holy voices faintly die

Along the echoing walls! Lo! there, with

gem

Adorned, and gold, shone the High Altar! clouds
Of incense, forth from fragrant censer flung,
Mingled with choral symphonies, went up
And curl'd around each clustering pillar's shaft,
And hid the branchy roof, while bent around
The kneeling crowd of worshippers! Deem not,
Albeit with error mixed, their worship vain :-
Amidst a barbarous age, here Learning found
A refuge; holy men, from court or camp,
Heart-sore, and weary of the world, sought out
The shelter of monastic solitude,

Exchanged the soldier's mail for russet stole
And robe of saintly hue, and hither came

To lay their bones in peace. They sleep within
The ruined cloister's pale, unconscious

That all is changed around. The taper's light

Is quenched; the pealing anthem hushed; and now,
For penitential sighs, the night-breeze howls
Round the old pile; for holy music now,
The wild birds, nature's choristers, pour forth
Their matin hymn of praise, and deftly mock
The monk's old song; but chiefly, (when the moon
Has tipped with silver every ivy-bough,

And, through the southern window's tracery, darts
Her meeken'd light, full-orbed,-illumining
Each carving quaint, corbel and jutting frieze,)
The nightingale her miserere sings;

While frequent, heard across the stream, from out
The dodder'd oak that stands beside the grange,
The hermit-owl responsive shouts.

'Tis thus

Man's works, like man, grow old and die;
Nature and nature's God are still the same:
The circling mountains look down, as of yore;—
The ancient woods still wave their branches;-still
The river winds around the mossy walls;—
All else is changed or changing. Happy they,
Who, taught to draw from all created things
Their hidden wisdom, (lessons of faith and love,)
Upon the Rock of ages build their hopes,
And, as they walk the earth, look up to heaven!

Spirit of love! that dost vouchsafe to dwell
Within the ruined chambers of man's breast
Enshrined as in a temple! effluence bright!
Leave not the mansion tenantless, lest weed
And tangled shrub their noxious fibres twine
Around its walls, and, while they clasp, destroy:
Lest other guests, (the rightful Lord shut out,)—

Spectres and evil demons,-enter in

And revel there, a hideous troop! Return,
Celestial visitant, return and dwell

Within the desolated ruin! All

Its pristine beauty renovate, and raise

A LIVING TEMPLE to the King of Kings!

St. James's, Bath, July, 1836.

"LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION."

1834.

HIGH Priest, who hast been tempted
In all respects as we, yet without sin,
That, from sin's meed exempted,
Thy servants might a crown of glory win;
By thine own passion and deep tribulation,
Be with us in the dark hour of temptation.

For prone are we to linger.

Upon the utmost verge thy law prescribes,
To touch, with impious finger,

The barrier which thy holy word inscribes
Around the path that leadeth to salvation;
Oh, lead us not, good Lord, into temptation.

Thou, who thyself hast proved

The tempter's force, even in darkest hour,

Our Guide, whom it behoved

To stand, untouched, temptation's fiercest power;

Hear thou, O Lord, the voice of our oration,

Deliver us, deliver, from temptation.

F.R.C

THE EMU AND THE INKSTAND.

IT may not be universally known, that the Emu is a bird of the giant-class, and remarkable as much for its extreme witlessness, especially in the matter of its food, as for its bulk. In its confined state, at least, it will swallow every thing within reach, without regard to any other circumstance than its capability of entering the stomach; a fact which seems sufficient to account for Fable ascribing such amazing powers of digestion to the ostrich-a bird of the same family. Nails, halfpence, and other articles equally contrary, one would think, to the guiding instinct of the creature as to its life, have been found within it, when the causes of its mortal and mysterious illness have been sought after.

From this unaccountable characteristic arose a circumstance so interesting and instructive, that it should not, I think, be suffered to descend into oblivion altogether unnoticed, nor without leaving behind it some conspicuous trace of its being. The circumstance alluded to was related by the keeper of an extensive menagerie—a man most observant of the peculiarities of every animal committed to his care.

An Emu was once brought into his custody, which most unaccountably sickened and died within a few weeks afterwards. Upon opening the body, to his astonishment he found the cause of her malady and death to be a glass inkstand, which was enveloped in the creature's stomach, and which she had