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. in]. EVENING. ' Husli’d was the hour, the god of dayâ€"- ._ :With many a quiv’ring glorious ray, And gorgeous flush of crimsonlight, That lit with fire each stream and height, And tipt with gold the greenwood gay, 'I‘ransform’d as by a magic swayâ€"â€" Upon his throne, far in .the'west. Sank slow majestic to .his rest; And dim as grew his sweeping train, A fading beam again, again, Fell quiv’ring, tremblingvthen away, As if the haughty brilliant day Would 1'eâ€"assert his might, And from her throne with angry rev Disperse the hazy twiight grey, And quench sweet Luna’s light. I said’the hour was hush’d and still; But from the distant murm’ring rill. And from 'I‘wecd’s rich and gushing flow, And from the green leaves rustle low, And feathered warblers. as they sank Upon the fragrant heathy bank, A strain of liquid music fell, Ringing and echoing down the dell; So soft, so dreamy, rich and rare, It floated through the twilight air Like notes of Fairy quire, No prelude sweeter than this strain E’er welcom’d night with starry train, Or fell from minstrel’s lyre. O lovely in that pearly light Romantic Neidpath look’d that night, So sweetâ€"methought it might allure . The midnight stay of angel pure. ()h I here for holy cloistor’d cell, I could bid all the world farewell; And ’mid its soft and peaceful shade Might ov’ry strife and grief evade. Bewitching was the lovely scene»â€" So fresh, so silv’ry and sereneâ€"â€" That burst upon my sight, The ancient hills like guardians hear A pale resplendent beauty wore, . And silence from each healthy crown Seem‘d like a spirit looking down. And many a pearl bright Glanc’d merry from the gowan’d lea, And hung from ev’ry flow’r and tree Like lamps o’er elfin bovv’r; And fairy creatures seemed to sport, And gay and merry, to hold court In that delicious hour. d" Titration. BLOWN OFF LAND. Four summers ago I was storm- straycd at midnight on a barren islet off the coast of Antrim. Our place of refuge was sublimcly grand; towering above and around our fire loomed gigantic masses of columnar basalt. Along- the cliffs face white seabirds glin‘imcrcd like scattered stars. High aloft, the rugged edge of the sheer precipice lifted its out- line clear against the yellowish glare of the drifting sky. Below, to- Wards the south, the pole cliffs of the mainland hung over the black tumult of waters that rolled against them. EastWord down the channel white-crested ridges ron high in the stormy moonlight, hiding at times from our sight the high land of Can- tyrc and the revolving light on Sonda. . ' My companions did not share in my admiration of the wild, and then to me most novrd, scene. They sat around the blazing logs ofdrift-wood thankful for our timely escape, and patiently waiting the calm. Occa- sionally the oldest of the group glanced upward to the flying clouds and out to sea, then silently resumed his gaze into the cddying flames and smoke, while the other furtivcly scanned his face to road the chances of better weatherâ€"«but never did they turn their own eyes but to sea â€"â€"â€"no northern fisher willingly looks upon a storm. After along silence, the youngest of the party abruptly 'tcxcluimcd 1-â€" “ Lod’s that's a heavy scud on the carry over-head; it’ll not calm these two days,- I think.” -‘ You’re wrong, Charles, replied - the senior; ‘the shares will fo’ wi’ ’ the next tide. Ishodld ken, I should ken; who better? Ay, ’twas a bit- ter bought, this weather-skill. All day I have it in my heart. It is the very dayâ€"it was sic a night as this. Sit closer boys: come here, young gentlemen, and hear an ould fisher’s wacsomc story he ne'er thought to come over tomortol cars again.’ We gathered round the old man, fIIc sat full in the firclight, with his back against the base of the cliffâ€" a striking figure on such a spot. Evidently once a man of large and __ robust mould, he was shrunken and wan with age or care; his thin mos- sive hands were spread, broad and nervous, oncithcr knee; his hair was long and thick, and raven black, 'while his beard and whiskers were white as the foam at our feet. Look- ing into his dork, stern, wrinkled face, his deep, restless eyes, burning with the memories of. his grief, I listened almost with awe, as he be- gan:â€"â€" Our banks are Scarce of fish by what I mind. Fourscore years ago, there was plenty, and to spare. l‘hc cod and grey lord were among the shoe tide and about this very isle: but it didna lost. The people grow wicked and thankless for God’s bounty, and the fish nigh left the coast. There was big distress then 4' in many a house where waste and mismtc had run furious; and many AURORA V\.. ALEX..SGOTT, Proprietor. ,..,_...__,.__ _‘_ -.....~_4.* Mp... .Mâ€"M _~_ Vol. Hr. No. 43. 1b W32. a wife and wcons and mony a des- but our our oin hamc,olackl tlicrelforth; worst of all, the lines Were sov ‘omcn’ to such a stroke. 1 pcratc one took to spoiling o’ the» king’s revenue, at peril of his lite: and fame. l was gratefu’ it was no eye in my house. Three sons and o. Winsome girl I had then living wi’ my wife and me, near the VVVhite Well 0' Comploy. They were brow l men. and bonny; nocbody ore sow them daunted to do the right and scorn the wrong; never their mithcr nor 1 had to check them for idleness or folly; the acid minister loved them well, and-often blessed their labours as they cost loose fruc shore; and I was proud, too proud of my strength and wealth stored in their hands and hearts. But oh, it was hard for a father to be less than proud of them the hole country praised; for when thcfigreat ship froe India was wreck- ed on IIonlpnn, and none wad launch to save the drowning crowd, they manned their boat, and I stccrcd vci’ thcm thro’ the 'rngin’ woch again and over again, till all were safe on shore and the hole parish saw it, and cheered them home, and the women cried wi’ love 0’ them, and wished our boirns were theirs; and the acid mostcr can’ic frae’ the castle in the rain and storm, and took their hands one after ithcr in his, and said, wi” big tears in‘his eyes,'ond swore that none 0" our blood and name should, want a friend and a home while he held Compluy ground. _ ‘ Atty, the youngest, was blotc and shy, and turned awa’ his hood, while he gripped his hand; and Joniâ€" mic, he laughed right out, and saidâ€" , , ‘It’s naothin’ to speak 0', loitd; but thank yc kindly for your kind wish.’ .. ‘But my oldest, frank and fear- lcss Bryan, took the laird’s two smo’ white hands in his brood big oncs,l and said loud enough, I trowâ€"l- ‘Not for your, promise, but for your manhood. laird, lgi’c my hand 1 ye’ll never want a loyal friend and four good oars in time 0' need while we can serve ye.’ - ‘But where was 1? Ave, the sair summer. At first we didno fch it much; but what \Vi’.llclplng thoscl about in, outcr'need, we soon fclt‘ pinched wi’ the general want. 1 saw my boys try hard to hide their hunger and trouble froe their sister and mithcr and me; and oft, ot dead 0’ mirk night, lmisscd them, and. found they had slipped out to try the barren sea for a morsel for the i thorn. At last the distress loy‘ so stcrnly over us that we needs must part. or find somc'specdy sustenance. At evening Bryon stood at my bed-- stock, and spoke Wi’ a low voiCc deep in his breast. ‘Fothcr, dinno think ill if we’re lotc home; We ate boun’ for tho out-l Wont slowly from us to the loud. I or bank. us thcrc.’ ‘ It was a fatal and on cyrcsomc place the outer bank. Men feared to speak of the crews lost'ond thcl thith soon there. I tried to turn} Thom: they went. At next evening lotc, they brought wi’ glee a load 0’ fish into the port; but 1 couldno join their mirth-â€"-fcor 'os over me like a cloud. They went ogoin.â€"â€"'l‘hcy bode the neighbors come to the new place, but hunger and bitter want: could tcmpt none to go soc fare and high to sea. ‘At lostl went myself. Many warnings I saw, and heeded not. I kcnt they would suffer, but I Would suffer wi’ thorn, whotc’cr it might be Checrless I took the helm, and cold- ly and dull the words of noighbourly cheer fell on me. The wind blew froe the East softly, the sea was like a longh, and I stcercd full upon the setting sun, I was ont owsomo sign to soar b '; but for that month it alone led straight out to the bank. I hodno loin long upon our course, when three black lines passed slow- ly o’er the face of the sun. I kcnt it boded ill; but never a word I spakcd; whatever was to he would be. I feared an’ I trembled, and steered on. ‘The lads were trimming their lines, and hccded nothing; but woe was me! I sow each one ever and anon. secretlv‘to his brisher, dip his hand into the salt sea, and wet his lips. Then I knew that evil mnst befall the voyage; but Isoid nought ~â€"-I steered still out into the broad sea upon the setting sun. ‘ Just as the lost red light lay on the water, and the boat was nigh the fishing ground, the lads bade me look back upon the land. It seemed? far down below us, dim and golden in the light; the shores mixed wi’ the mountains and the inland fields; It may be he will relieve :dropping fruo his young checks into ' the strongest. 'somc sair distress. t. .' . 5;, a» ,w. 1?; .lti’ _. "I. w ; it. . 3: ‘ * .2; ' AND RICHMOND HILL ADVO W,» 4. lay a wreath 0’ dark red mist, fixed and alone, like on ile o’ clouds on- chorcd on the sea. I kcnt it was a sign; I hoped it might be me who nc'cr wade see the homcwolls again. I heard the thoughtless boys spook merrily. ‘ 35cc ye that speck o’ . white on Intuition, Atty .7” spccrcd Bryon; d’yc kcu who lives there 'l’ ‘ And Atty’s face burned. red, and he held down his HIOCIL‘SI, face oboon the line. Then kindly Jamie laugh- ed, and said- ' ‘Dinnu be costdown,loddic; times will mood, and Elise will be the hon- nicst wrfc upon the green grass 0' Cumpluy.’ ‘ And the puir lad, for answer, looked up and smiled; but in a while he lookcd o’er the gunwolo on that wcc \vhitc Spock, and big tours run the salt sea; the want and her proud friends had sundcrcd them; but she was tool as oak, and kept hcr plightâ€" cd word on my pulr boy. i fclttwo bitter tears stealing:r down my rough, foccmit was boCousc I. kcnl. wccl‘ there Wad soon be greater brooch,» between him and her than human hands could make. I saw it in his face and running tears; and I thought I could spurt: u’ but him. ‘ ‘3 mode inc tremble to hear coon it the loud laughs of the other two; not as they usct', but long and rock- lcssly they laughed, and mud bursts o’ merrimcnt rung frnc their lips out into the waste ’0’ air and son. ' It had on owsomc sound. I kcnt then my three bonny sons, who sat besidc‘ me on that lonely place, for free mortal help, We 0 doomed men to due. I prayed; but it was the pray- er 0' angry despair, and not 0’ sim- ple faith. I felt my life breaking up ' within me, like a wreck bursted wr’ a wave; but I dldno speak or stir, but steered on in the not"-wcst, where the burning crown of Sinking sun glowed in the shining sco. ‘ By down the boat was laden wi’ fish; the sun rose, large and fiery, behind Contyrc; a broad track 0’ pleasant light pourcd o’er a’ the world; cost and west, north and! south, it shone and played, but no sunbeam fell on our boot.â€"â€"--i‘iround the air looked vorm, but we were chill and (:hccrlcss. Darkness and sorrow were appointed us. I kcnt it; but] never spoke. They step- pcd to the mast and spread the soils. A while, a soft, hamcword brcczc hovered, angel like, around us-â€"~it fell ncor stern ard bow, vct it could-l no reach us, for the spoil 0’ fate was We floated in a calm like where oil floats in summer pools; and the good breeze, wi"o mean, ‘thcn was sure we were given o’cr to] ‘It came. Like a rock ilropt frac hoovcn, the wind foll‘on us, fierce and heavy; it laid the goodbout o’cr' moist under the hissing sea; it shook the soils and drch them out w’l fcorfu’ gusts, it swooped us out like a thistle down, and drove us like a cursed boost pursued ’ by raging hounds. Out lives were on the sails. l watched thorn worily, kept her fair before it. I had no hope; but I was calm. and resolved to tight for their door lives to the 'ost. ‘ But anon, I did despair. They said, ‘ The storm is due south, folli- cr.’ Clearer than if writ wrth light- ning I saw the monntu‘ o9 the doom we should 5 ‘f’I'cr. I could not speak; l but down in my soul’s ,wrotlt 1 said, ‘ Is this His mercy 1 His mercy? ’ Ireland is clean gone,’ they said. i heard; but I did not look at them for anguish. ‘ ’lsla is like a mistâ€"’tis gone 1’ I heard, and spoke not. [clenched my teeth, and with a rebellious heart I steered among the rising waves into the north. The sun went down. smouldering angrily amid stormy clouds. All night the wind slockcd not, and some waves washed clear away CVr‘rylhing DUI ourselves from out the boot. Under a leech of the forcsoil, we still run northward through the darkness. Toward morning it lulled, at break 0’ day the gale was wholly gone, and nought remained to be feared but the sullen washiof the raised sea. We wotohodfofr sunrise, with hearts moist wil wild hope and fear. It rose. as they had never seen, out of the Open sea. No land in sight â€"â€"'â€"nothing like any other dayâ€"shut the red sun glowcring over the big waves that thronged to meet him with their'bloody fronts. ‘ All thatday we rolled helplessly l some white homesteads flocked it like the first specks o’ curly snow; .omid the swells. The oars were gone; EkEQk’il‘lEéBNB HEEL .M-fi Wfifimm . him-.me Mw4m4m.mmwm mt M .ghost it glintcd under Us through moonlight. “ Let Sound Reuse-n weigh more (withers t/um- Popular Opinion.” WN\. CATE AND ADVERTISER. _ I V t lost; we had eaten nothing since we left home; we could only look down into the hungry waves, and fight the burning pangs 0’ could and hunger. The soils hung straight amidships free the golf. The clouds stood un- dcr us, steady as some for islands, deep in the calm water, like fairy pictures spread over the ocean’s floor. And night came. Like :1 the dark waves; and one by one, as passing hopes, the stars disappeared under the keel. None 0’ us spoke; words could not soften our distress. it was better to guess than hear what every tone would tell. But when the night was at the midst, I looked on my three sons. The could grip o' hunger clenched my heart, and trouble burned into my very brain; but it was nought when i saw their fair young faces pinched and throwcd, and their eyes glow- cring soc dull and bloodshot in the Nearer I saw the dread- ful hour. ‘I was their father. It was my duty, I thought to cheer them; but my lips belied my godless, rebel- lious hcurt. ' ‘ Trust in God, children dear; Ilc may deliver us; His will is gra- (:iOUS. ‘ Ay, oy 1’ they said; ‘He is gra- cious. His will be done.’ ‘ Awfu’ thoughts filled my’mindnâ€" flours I lay and heard them praying for pardon and heaven. I could not pray for anything but their lives. llitt u'ly I bcsought mercv l mercy ! Ilomc Home! V v ‘ Early in the morning light Isatv his handkerchief upon Atty’s lips whispering, ‘ Take it, Atty, door ;’ and when he did not heed, he shook his arm and called his name; and Atty opc’d his calm blue eyes, and said, with his soft, low voice- ‘ Whisht, Bryan; dinna wake our father. I’m (lacing; naething can .9ch me now. Come closer, brither. It's on my brcastâ€"â€"â€"the tokcn she gted to me langsync. ,II‘cll hor ’tis to lie on my hc-ort in the/grave, for I loved her dearest at the last. Tell mither to love her for my sake; hid sistcr Alic be thoughtfu’ o’ Elisre’s love for me. God bless them 11’. His will be done. An'ien. omen. ‘I took no hand, his brithers had the ithcr. Ac gentle smile and lovâ€" ing look he gicd us eachâ€"and he was dead. . ‘ They stretched him out, and 2L, FRIDAY, S‘E‘PTEI‘iflEER. ‘# ‘1. ...__._._ 93?, 18 ‘Vh‘ole No. ‘48. ammo. said. fiercely within myself, ~ It will , V -â€" inot, it must not, it shall not he.’ _ If you invest money in tools, and ‘Father,’ said his voice ; ‘ father, We“ leaf’e them exposed l? the W9“- bc a mam be strong; think of God, ther, it IS tiresome osloantng money and bow yourhean, 1, am going, to aspcrdthrlft Without security, a too.‘ I ne’er shall see an earthly deed lossdn bOlll Cases; morn. Father, forgi’e my mony If you Invest money in books, and rash werds and thoughtess ways new?” readflihem’ It '3, the Same “3 that vcxcd'yc oft. Tell mither, toll ,PUlllllg Your mover “HQ 3.1311“- Ape,’ and will Provide. O my and but: never drawrng either princrpol UiSEASES’NOW-y AND TWO $150, In Advance. - soy, teach them-tosoy, "I‘hv will 0" “Harem; ’ be- done.’ ycs-Anicn.’ ‘ When light fell out o’ heaven it touchcd my dead son’s focc, red- dening his brood brows and shining: in the coils of his glossy hair; it played 0301' his'hands‘, and lay warm 'upon thc'cold white Skin of his open breast. ' ,It couldna woken him ; he was (lead. I was now alone on the cruel sea, keeping wotch o’er my sons. 'I felt no hunger then, or thirst or pain then. I shut my eyes, but could still see my three sons cold and stark under the soil. 1 Would have need but I couldno leave them. At mid-day I looked forth. " All was the some; nuelhing, save the sunin the sky, and the few farâ€"up thin clouds; and on the sea, no soil or Sign of living thing. But as 'l lookod,I sow undernrath the keel a dork shadow passing;r to and fro, from how to stern and stem to bow, keeping its awful watch for me and, mine. At times it raised its shapolcSS hood close by and looked into my face, and lay in the hot sun, gloating ond waiting Wi’ o fearfu’ I come, Attywdiamic; If you invest money in finestock, and not feed and protect them, and properly care for them, _it' is the. some as dressing your wife in silk to do kitchen work. , V l y i If you invest your money in choice fruits, and do not guard and give them a chance to grow and prove their value, it is the some as putting a good hand into the field with poor tools to work with. If you invest your money in a good form. and do not cultivate it well, it is the some as marrying a good wife and so abusing and en- slaving her as to crush her energies and to brook her heart. If you invest your money in a fine house and do not so cultivate your mind and taste as to adorn it with intelligence and refinement, it is as if you were to wear broad- cloth ond a silk hat to mill. If you invest your money in fine clothes, and do not wear them with dignity and case, it is as if a plough- m-on were to sit at a jewellcr’s table to make and adjust hair-springs. If you lllVCSt your money in patience and a savage gloom o’crucl Wong drink, ll is the same as tuf‘n' jov In its g‘ossv ccn, I thought it mg hungry hogs Into 1‘ grOW‘ng was the fiend (,7 my distress; 1 corn fieldâ€"rum \Vlll follow in both Bryon squeeze oe drop 0’ water frac thought it come to seize the bodes 03508- 0’ them whose souls it couldna If you invest your money in tempt to murmur 0r doubt in God, every new wonder that flaming cir- At last. then,l bowed my soul..â€" culars proclaim, it IS the some as I’ prayed wi’ faith, and wi’ long, car- buying “Cliels at a lottery Office, nest sighs bursting: from mv heart. WHCFC lllel‘C are “311 blanks 30 One I slept. awoke. The boat was running fair It was evening when l Pl'lze- If you invest your money in before a northwest wind,l had no “10 ‘lilSl “OWL, ll. is the same as Strength to move. I kept the helm steady under my arm ; the boat ran on-â€"l knew not where. llooked behind. The great black shadOw still “followed, wi’ llS hungry eyes. I strove to fly foster and faster froe its awfu’ companyâ€"~in vain. ‘In the gloomin {of what day I. conno tell), as in a dream, I found myscl’ passing the outrocks 0’ our port. I Came straight to the beach. Dimly I saw faces around. They tried to lift me free the helm, but I turned round to see if the fiendish employing a tailor’s dandy to dig your potatoes.” Valley Farmer. SUN POWER, The changes of the seasons are severe; and if they were instanta- neous, few men would be able to endure the shock; but still they are working a good work for the benefit of the world. The frosts of winter shake up and puiverize the soil for the husbandman. The huge piles of snow protect the tender plants so spread the muinsail ower him; and,shadow fell‘Otved‘still to take away that they live through the severe silently we sat, looking at the spot. I couldno weep 01‘,_pra '; but they ‘ They are saved! Thank God.-- tonic-power over the most of men ;. were rivcn vt'i' grief, and they lookâ€" ed up, pleodin oft, and 0ft to heaâ€" vcu. _ ‘ Another morn rose, like the yes- tcr’ morn. Not a word 0’ com- plaint vos spoken; they made, nae mean; they showed nac fear. Un- der my brows I watched them. Nearer it come, and nearer. It: was writ in Jamie's chockâ€"it shone like a beacon in his evcs. Bryon stole o’ci to bathe his hands and wet his brow wi’ the salt water; and he moved his wan lips weakly wi’ a flicker ofa smile. We c0vcr- ed him free the sun that burned* oboon our h :adsâ€"«but it availed not. As sunset drew nigh, he sank, lower and lOWcr. Ere the sun touched the woter,hc signed to raise him up. He oyc loved to look on it going down in its grandeur; and in the songs and verses he made, he said it was the best and loveliest sight man’s eye can see on earth.»â€" He watched it long; and his face lighted up as the sea rippled against its lowermost edge. Then he snilcd his bonny smile, as it sank deeper; and the golden light glow- cd broader, as he said, with his onld clear ringing voice, that went for out and high up frac us. like musrcmâ€" ‘And there shall be no night there; and they need no candle, neither light of the sun, for the”, Lord God givcth them light; and they shall reign for over and ever." ‘ As he ended the words, the sun went doon, and the. water lay dark ond‘colm on the sky’s far edgerâ€"w \Ve looked into his face: he was dead. ’ ’ ‘W'e laid him side by side wi’ Atty, beneath the soil. It would have rent our hearts to speak.â€" Our hands were weak. It‘wos a long task to place him rightly ; but it was comforting to do it; any- thing in thotdolefu’ time 0’ your misery. When a’ was done, night 0' a: come on. I dare not look upon in v only son. my sons; but it'Was gone. Icried, His will lbc’done.’ ‘They told me, long after, that my sons were buried; and they brought me to their graves in the ould church-yard. But I missed other faces than theirs. Their mithcr and their sister, where were theyl Too soon I kent it o’.â€"â€"-’\Iy daughter lay in the some grove wi’ her three brithcrs; my wife at sight 0’ their dead faces, was ta’en distracted, and dec’d long sync, calling their names o’er and o’er to the last. season. Winter has a wonderful they recuperate on frost, and come forth in the spring with increased vigor and strength. But continued winter would be an awful calamity, and would soon work the 'world’s destruction. Sun power is de- mondcd. A contest must transpire between heat and cold, and the sun gain the victory for the preservation of man. It is singular to witness this. contest in the early Spring. In the‘morning frost reigns. An hour or two after he begins to give up the contest; the ice softens, melts; ‘A' stronger woman, wi’ whitcipools of water stand by the way- halr and grief-stricken face, broke it to me, hit by” bit. Onc name she couldno bear to speak or hear.â€"- At last, I told her of her Atty and minc‘â€"â€"â€"his dying love, and his last words for her.' She has kept wi’ me since; one kind, good daughter given when a’ the door ones were lost to me on earth. But I wait.â€" IIis will be done. Boirns,be humble in o’ your thoughts and ways; drive for owa’ all the selfish, sinfu’ prit c; gi’e yourscl’s quite into His hands wi’ patience, till the course is run and the anchor cost for ever. And, lads, dinna speak to me o’ these waofu’ things again; it’s moir than my broken heart can tholc.’ Ere morning, it calmed suffici-, ently to permit our return. Our voyage home was in silence; but as we touched the'shore, one of the young;r fishers caught my eye, and looking toward old Alick, whisperâ€" ed softly and S‘1(llV into my car, ‘ God pity him.’â€"])ublin University Jlfagazine. ' A GOOD Rncrstâ€"A man coming home just before dinner exhausted, wet, and weary, if he be foolish enough to take a gloss of branin and water, will eat no dinnerâ€"he has arrested the molecular change, the philosepher says. If he drink the hot water without the brandy (a most capitol recipt, by the way, given me by an old fox-hunter), he will find his appetite side; Noon comesâ€"~os pleasant and tempting as a summer do-y.-- The sun has triumphed for the day, only to lose his hold on the earth again when he retreats for the night. Day 'after day, and night after night, the contest is continued, un- til the sun finally triumphs for the season. \Vhat amazing power there is in the sun! It releases the monster icebergs of the northern regions, and bids them float to the tropical seas. It melts the last snow pile from the northern side of our New England mountains. It penetrates the earth, and brings up the frost from its lowest dttptlis.’ It starts vegetation from its long winter sleep, sends the sap through the trunk and out into the branches of the largest and tallest trees, and clothes them with fruit at the op- propriatc season. 'It clothes the field with gross and‘ flowers, at once agreeable to the eye, and furâ€" nishing food for the multittfdmous inhabitants of the Open air. All this power is good. God save it for goodâ€"o motive power in his vast laboratoryâ€"the world- But this sun power is an emblem â€"â€"a type.- Thcrc is asun which mortalscyes see not, but which, nevertheless, drives owoy darkness and cold, which are often and deeply felt. The Sun of Righte- ousness bursts forth to break up the ‘ I could not hide 1h", ravsnousâ€"the philosopher finds-lie has in- moral winter of the WOt‘ld.-â€"IIcruld the load of fish Clean sweptl thought of in, to him, Icould no, creased the metamorphosis of tissttc. ' of Religious Liberty. 4- CENTURIES AGO.- The destruction of life, remarks tth Registrar-General,‘in the repert hehas just issued, like everything else in London, is upon a scale of grandeur; if its dead of a single- year could" be brought to life they would people a large city. Yet the rate of mortality in London is very different from What it was, 200 years since. In 1660-1680, out of 100,000 persons, 357 died annually ffrpm,’ small-pox ; the, deaths now are, 42. ', The mertality then by fever and ague, with scarlatinrt, quinsey, and croup, was 759; it is now 227. A few in the 100,- 000 die now of dysentery;- then, out of the some number. 763 died annually of that disease; by diarra diSoose, 120 die now, 11 died then.- Womcn are not yet exempt from peril in childbearing; the mortal- ity is 1'7, but it was then 86. Con- sumption and diseases ofthc breath-- inp,r organs were verv total, the deaths were 1079; they are 611 now. Children were rapidly cut down; of convulsions and teething, 1175 died then, 130 now. Dropsy, a result and. Sign; of scurvy and died then. 26 now. Scurvy and purpura bear testimony to the im- perfect nutrition of the population ; the annual death in 100,000 were 142 then, and are now 2. In addi- tion, London, Was then ronlng by the terrible ‘plaguc.’ The rcturns‘ show, on the other hand, that opo- plcxy, paralysis, epilepsy, affection- 'of the brain._ and suicide, are more fatal now--151 now to 57" then; andof the violen't'dcathssomc are now more frequert, as the forces by which they are occasioned are greater. Poison is more accessible, ill'CS are probably more common, and dresses more inflammable, but drownng and suffocation were then twice as fatal (twenty-three and twenty) as they are in the present day. The Registrar-General re-' minds us that the diseases would rc\ivc if the some causes came again into action. The supply of food and particularly of vegetables and fresh meat, was defective in the winter, so that a large portion ofthe‘ population became scorbutic. The houses were nearly as close and dirty as the houses in Constanti‘ noplc and Cairo; the water supply was imperfect, and parasitic insects- .and diseases of the skin betrayed its impurity. The dirt of the houses struck foreigners. T he sewers were defective, and the soil gave off marsh malaria in some parts,and- in others was saturated with the filth of successive generations. One .bv one these evils have more or ' less disappeared, and along with this change step by step the health of London has improved. The notion,- adds the Registrar-General, exults justly in the progress of its manuo fuctures, but it is surpassed by the progress of the health of its capital ,; and furthcrprogress is in the hands of the people.‘ They can work out their own salvation, with the Mess- ing of Providence ; and, as science succeeds in bringing to light the causes of unnatural diseases still ex~ isting, we may hope coofidently that these diseases will be mitigath or averted. SECESSION ANECDOTF. James Jackson, of North Alai boma, well known in New Orleans,- particularly to the turfites mores abouts, volunteered as a private,anl jomed the 4th Alabama Regiment, which suffered so severely on the 213t. On the first charge of that gallant regiment. Jackson was shot:- through the lungs, and when the regiment was pressed back, he was left. among the killed and wounded. Shortly after, a Yankee approached him and said .â€"â€" ‘ Friend, you appear to be badly, wounded; what can I do for you 1’ Jackson replied, ‘Somc water, for God’s sake I’ l The Yankee, in giving him the“ water, noticed a fine fob chain hook; cd in vest, and said, ‘Young. man, I see you cannot survive; give me your watch and I will send it to your mother.’ Jim‘looked at him askant, and said :â€"-â€"‘ Horse, that game is played out; I know yen will take the watch from me, and I want to, make a. trade with you. If you will place» me in the shade and fill my can-- teen with water, I will give you the watch.’ The trade was struck in a minute, and after placing Jim in a shade and filling his canteen until it gnrglcdi over, Jim told him to unhook her‘ and draw her out; and before he left said to him, that if over he should make a match race, and wished to know the speed of his . horse, to time him With that watch, for he had given $285 for it at Liv~ erpool, and there never was a beta- ter one turned out from the menu» factory.’ Jim is getting well, having laid until Monday about 10 o‘clock be. fore he was found,ond declared that his watch trade was the best he had made since he had arrived at man’s. cstotc. hoco, however, a milder form of fever, was exceedingly fatal; 8291