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TAERE was once a young Virginian, and a noble boy was

he, Yet he sprang not from a princely line, nor was of high

degree; But the clear blood mantled in his cheek, the light flash'd

from his eye, And his presence was right noble, FOR HE NEVER TOLD


Now his home was near a forest, filled with lofty

branching trees; And his wont had been to try his knife, boy-fashion,

upon these :

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may think that he, not seldom too, had snapped the

brittle toy, Ere his father found a hatchet stout, and bought it

for the boy. Who so proud as our young woodsman now ? His soul

is full of glee; He will try his keen-edged tool at once upon the nearest

tree; So he hies him round his father's house, and waves it in

the air, When (evil was the hour !) he spies a fruit-tree planted


Oh, the mischief in that bold, bright eye! the mischief in

that hand ! For the favourite tree is ruined, though the finest in the

land ;

Yet no eye hath seen the ruin wrought, and he will go

his way;

Why not shroud his fault in silence, light the blame on

whom it may ? But he boy was better than his thought! His father saw

thi tree :

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“Who hath done this wanton mischief here? " impatiently

cried he. 'Twas the struggle of a moment, though 'twas easy to

deny; Then he summon'd up his courage, -"Sir, I canNOT TELL


I wish you could have seen his father's features now; He forgot his petty sorrow as he re:ud that open brow. ! Then he clasp'd him in his arms, and said, --fit words for

son and sire, “I had rather loze a thousand trees than have my son

a liar." So the fearless boy grew up to be a noble, fearless man; Match lis virtues in long centuries, if match them so !

ye can: That shall be a glorious century which of patriots yields

us one, Of glory fit to mate with that of our owa WasilixGTOX.



Our young readers will be glad to learn that their friend, the author of the excellent Astronomical articles in the “Hive” of the last two years, h:27 recently become distinguished as a Discoverer in relation to one of the Planets described by him. The following is taken from one of the Daily Journals of the North

"Every improvement of the telescope brings to light some new feature in the appearance of Saturn. Many of our readers are probably not aware that during the last three or four years, when the planet has been very favourably situated, with the ring fully opened, the attention of ! astronomers, possessing powerful telescopes, has been directed to an appearance on the outer bright ring, which was asserted to be another divisioa-thus forming three

separate bright rings. Others, though possessing large instruments not only questioned the division of the outer ring, but doubted the existence of any mark whatever. During this time several very fine lithographic prints of Saturu have been published by the respective observerssome with and others without, the controverted division. Among those showing a black division were two very excellent ones-by Captain Jacob, of the East India Company's Madras Observatory, and Mr. De la Rue, of Londo:1. In the carly part of last year, while the matter stood thus, a paper, by Mr. John Watson, of Washington Chemical Works, was read before the Royal Astronomical Society, in which the author reported having several times, with his large telescope, not only seen the mark in question, but that he was able to speak positively as to its real natuie, viz., that it is not a division, but a mere belt, or streak similar in appearance to the belts which so conspicuously cover the balls of Jupiter and Saturn. Yet, Mr. Watson's evidence was to be weighed against a bulky mass on the other side, and was hardly considered conclusive. Capt. Jacob now writes from Madras, that, with the large telescope of that observatory, aud in a fine atmosphere, 'He can fully confirm the opinion expressed by Mr. Watson as to the nature of the mark on the vuter ring, viz., that it is not a division, but a mark or streak; it is not at all difticult to see here; indeed, I canuot (he continued) look at Saturn, when the atniosphere is at all fit for observing, without seeing it. But, further, it is my opinion that the principal division, so called, is of the same nature, viz., a belt, or mark, and not a clear space or division ; for I not only see it of a brown hue, but can distinctly make out the shadow of the planet across it.' This is startling inform::tion for astronomers."



LITTLE George is the youngest of our Sunday-school boys, but he never fails ; he never comes too late ; his lesson is always committed well, and his books are kept in good order. When he rises on Sunday morning, nothing else occupies his mind but to get dressed and ready to go to the Sunday School. Some time since he fell sick, and looked very ill on Sunday morning, so that his mother wished to keep him at home ; but he said, “I must go to school ; pray, mamma, let me go.” At last he succeeded in getting permission to go.

That same morning he began to read, and when he returned home he did not look sick any more, but his eyes gleamed for joy because he had learned, “I cannot see God, but God can see me ;” and immediately when he saw his mother he read to her, and showed her his lesson for the next Sunday. George has so rapidly advanced, that now he can read almost every word in his class-book. He has left all his former class-mates behind, and is now seated among boys who are much older than himself; and it is amusing to every body to see the little boy with his curly hair and clean dress, seated among those much bigger than himself.

Child's Paper.

I want to be an angel,

And with the angels stand,
A crown upon my forehead

A harp within my hand ;
There, right before my Saviour,

So glorious and so bright,
I'd wake the sweetest music,

And praise him day and night.

I never would be weary,

Nor ever shed a tear,
Nor ever know a sorrow,

Nor ever feel a fear;
But blessed, pure, and holy,

I'd dwell in Jesus' sight,
And with ten thousand thousands,

Praise him both day and night.
I know I'm weak and sinful,

But Jesus will forgive,
For many little children

Have gone to heaven to live ;
Dear Saviour, when I languish,

And lay me down to die,
O ! send a shining angel,

And bear me to the sky.



How many voices, on every side of us, speak these words! They float in the air, and ring out from the solid earth. The friend falling at our side, the neighbour across the street, the wayfarer on his journey, the pleasure-hunter in mid pursuit-these all say, " be ye also ready.” Were there ever such frequent, ach ter ble warnings as we have recently had ? Surely, Death has been a harvesting, and he has gathered fruit—and where ? it is not the feeble infant, whose flickering light expires in the vapour of some pestilential den, or before the epidemic blast; nor the tired invalid whose thread of life is threaded and parted— a blessed release— by his tossing long upon the weary bed ; nor the aged watcher at the grave's mouth, looking for the end of life's long exile from home-not these are they with whom Death has garlanded his brow. Nor has his gathering been a gleaning-one here and another there; but he has put his sickle in among the thickest of the blades, and with one swing, filled his bosom with the fullest ears.

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