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Mourn not the dead, “The vacant chair” may stand
Unused, deserted, by thine own fireside;
But she who filled it, in the spirit-land
May claim a throne amongst the glorified.

Mourn not the dead.
Mourn not the dead, though desolate and lone
May seem the homes, where once they used to dwell ;
But if to Heavenly mansions they are gone,
Their rapturous bliss no mortal tongue may tell.

Mourn not the dead.
Mourn not the dead; why would ye have them here
Again to tread the pilgrim path of life?
In the celestial climes above, no tear
Can dim their eyes, as in this world of strife.

Mourn not the dead.
Mourn not the dead; for ye may meet again ;-
Faith, with uplifted finger, points the way,
Let not her gentle guidance be in vain,
'Twill lead thee on to realms of endless day.

Mourn not the dead.

ANNIE White.

“Some fell upon stony places,” Matt. xiii. 5.
“Some fell on stony ground;" and soon the seed

Made root, and sent up shoots rejoicingly,
Through the green Spring-time; but when o'er the mead,

From summer heavens, the sun shone fierce and high,
Oh, then, because it found not depth in need,

The stately plant shrank from the glowing sky,
And parched, and withered, like a scentless weed,

A broken, wasted thing, bowed down to die !
Not so, my heart ! should sceptred powers of earth

Sweep in their ire, our peaceful fanes away,
Spreading dim silence o'er the pious hearth,

Where once the prayer was poured at shut of day; Not so : forget thou that Pure Fountain's worth, Whose streams shall yield thee strength to brave oppression's sway?


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The first eruption of this mountain described in history, took place in the year 79, during the reign of the Emperor Titus. Pliny, himself an eye-witness, has made us familiar with it. That eruption was supposed at the time to be the first that had ever occurred; but local traditions of much earlier date, indicate that the whole district was known to be volcanic during the mythic ages of the Greeks.

The destruction of Pompeii and Herculaneum which occurred at the period referred to, did not, as might have been expected, operate as a warning to after ages, and though numerous eruptions of greater or less violence took place subsequently, they failed to prevent the erection of the city of Ottaiano, at the foot of the mountain of Somna, close to Vesuvius. Of the eruption which proved fatal to that city, Sir W. Hamilton, ambassador to the Sicilian court in 1766, has left us a painfully interesting account.

Our engraving represents the eruption of last August.

“On the morning of the 1st,” says the Athenæum, “the wells at Portici, and other localities in the same neighbour


hood, were found dry; and on the following evening, Vesuvius fulfilled the augury, and spoke in fire. The new upper crater, after a trembling which lasted several hours, flung up a stream of lava, which, in the course of thirty-five minutes, had descended as far as Pigno del Ginestro. From several points of the ancient crater the volcano shot flame, and after sunset a fresh lava torrent, fifteen feet wide, spread in the direction of Bosco Reale. Two new craters were at the same time formed, from which issued fire stones, with a sound that spread terror through the neighbourhood.”

Although this last outbreak has terminated without effecting serious mischief, our young friends will infer from the terrific aspect of the mountain, that there was at least some foundation for the apprehensions entertained. The engraving is copied from the “ Pictorial Times,” and purports to represent “ The appearance of Vesuvius on the night of the 23rd August," 1847; the date (23) being evidently a misprint for the 2nd and 3rd.



Twice seven years are passed since Mrs. Langford became a widow, and her son, the intant Horace, lost his father. The seene too is changed, yet not to such a distance but that, from where we now are, a vigorous step might reach Craddock-court within the third of an hour, and the bank of the Teme in a few minutes.

A large thatched cottage with a rustic porch, and sundry windows projecting from the thatch itself, is the place into which our Living Rill now leads us. The cottage stood under a at the farther end of a narrow glen which opened on the river ; the banks which enclosed the glen were not so shaded by the apple trees which grew upon them as not to afford a rich crop in the season to the hay-makers, and the pure clear spring which came tumbling from the rock and hastened along the bottom of the dell to the river, was marked along its course with a rich border of velvet mosses, and such water-plants as love to bathe their roots in perpetual moisture. It was summer time, and the work of mowing was still proceeding on one bank whilst every individual of the cottage, which was held by a small farmer, was

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