thought alarming to such an aggregate of strength? Alas! danger imminent and fatal was near at hand. It was impossible for the limited number of boats on the spot to surround the whole army of whales; one wing was therefore selected, as being most favourably situated for the purpose, and around these the men in the boats warily insinuated themselves, till they were detached from the main body, and then surrounded; gradually closing, and driving (or, in the vernacular, ca'ing) the animals towards land, by shouting and throwing stones incessantly, the prey was soon secure. Secure? do our readers exclaim. Yes, from the well-known habits of the animals, though they floundered about in alarm, making the water appear like a boiling cauldron, and maternal care became doubly anxious and bold. Ah! had the poor whales only known their own power, however, one effort was sufficient to have swept their apparently insignificant assailants into the bosom of their element, and set them free! But the "fear and dread" of man prevailed, and after a short space, two hundred whales were stranded on a low beach in an open bay, just before the rising of the wind and sea would have rendered it dangerous or impossible. The men, (now joined by many more from the land,) leaping into the water, slaughtered the whole with harpoons, lances, knives, or any other weapons at hand. Even now maternal love was conspicuous, so that the young are always first despatched, for then the mother is secured: she will not, were escape possible, leave her offspring, even in death. This is a painful part of the proceeding; but the fishermen are in the highest state of excitement, thinking of nothing but securing their valuable prey; and humanity, as well as interest, combine to make the process of slaying as speedy as possible. Then comes the division.

The proprietors of the ground on which the whales are stranded, claim a third of the whole: the rest is divided amongst the hunters. Each of these animals was worth nearly two pounds they were from twelve to twenty feet in length.

What a providential assistance has this proved, in a locality where the fishermen's families are suffering extremely from a second failure of the potato crop! Nothing except the blubber or fat of these whales (which is manufactured into oil) is made use of in the British isles, except when some landlord or tenant,

more active and enlightened than his neighbours, makes manure for the farm of the carcases and bones. In general they are suffered to lie on the beach as a nuisance, or committed again to the sea.

This matter of hunting these whales is very differently, and much more judiciously pursued, in the more remotely north islands of Faroe, a group belonging to the Danish crown. Capturing whales there is an object of main importance to the islanders, whose resources are still more circumscribed than our own. The Faroese have plans arranged, and stringent rules laid down, to which all must conform, in relation to finding, pursuing, and dividing the shoals of whales; consequently, there, much greater numbers are caught than in Shetland, where there is little concert and no authority, but in their place too often only injudicious exertion, directed by over-heated excitement. Moreover, the whale's flesh is always used in Faroe as food, fresh or dried. When cooked, it looks and tastes exactly like beef, but a little coarser; and is perfectly free from any flavor of fish or oil. We cannot help regretting that this food, which is proved to be both palatable and nutritious, should in this country be rejected, from prejudice.

When we consider the variety and numbers of the animal tribes, all given into the hand of man for the purposes of comfort to him, what reason have we to lift our voice in praise, while we say, "Thou openest Thy hand, and satisfiest every living thing." Where there is a barren soil, there is a teeming ocean, and it may with truth be asserted, that it is man who fails in turning the manifold gifts of God to appropriate usefulness, else would there be fewer of those calamitous famines we have lately heard so much about.

Man is culpably deficient in industry, or in judiciousness; he is guided by prejudice, or misled through ignorance, or impoverished by wastefulness. The Lord fails not in bounty"He giveth liberally." We fail in improving what is committed to our trust. We may perceive reasons of kindness and forbearance in the infliction of partial evil, even when it appears to proceed directly from the hand of God himself, for we imagine no cause of universal application has been, or ever will be, discovered for the late potato failure, except that it is a providential dis

pensation from Him. It may not be wholly void of instruction or interest to mention the fact, that a gentleman of Shetland, accustomed to look at things comprehensively and philosophically, has, for at least fifteen years past, been expressing his opinion, that these islanders were each season advancing in the habit of trusting mainly to the potato crops. He pointed out to landlords and tenants, that though the bulk of food was greatest in return for the amount of labour, and though potatoes are peculiarly acceptable with a fish diet, yet that their cultivation ought to be discouraged and restricted by every possible means, as not only exhausting to the soil, (the proof of which is very evident,) but decidedly injurious to the habits and constitutions of the population. The caution was unheeded; and now the Lord and ruler of all things has (as we believe in mercy) sent a serious check to the potato culture, which we trust may be meekly and obediently attended to.

Behold, then, the goodness and severity of God! His goodness provides abundance for all our need, did we only turn it to proper account-temporal support-redeeming love-sanctifying grace. Let us ask of him who giveth these things liberally, and upbraideth not; and they shall be given to us. Let us also realize that even the severity of our heavenly Father is but another aspect of his goodness. "He chastens but for our profit, that we may be partakers of his holiness," and in the midst of judgment he "remembers mercy." Oh! that we might be wise, and consider these things! Around us we can trace, in these days, many wondrous dealings of providence, and as the blessed Redeemer, in the days of his flesh, called on the "lilies of the field" and the "fowls of the air" to give evidence of the bounteous, ever watchful care of our Father in heaven, so we think that there are none of these dealings, whether near at hand or more remote, from which the intelligent Christian may not derive divine lessons of profit, of warning, or encouragement. Our hearts-our thoughts-the roamings of our imaginings are ever apt to cleave to earth and earthly things. It is no insignificant attainment to be disposed to see the hand of the Lord in all things.

E.

THE LIVING RILL.

How often does the unsanctified, yet not uncultivated, human intellect, borrow of the rich imagery of scripture, wherewith to adorn a tale or embellish a stanza, not always knowing, and very rarely acknowledging, the divine source to which he is indebted! Where can we find a more striking proof of the truth of this remark than in those beautiful verses in the Hebrew Melodies, which, once having heard repeated, recur to the memory of the author whenever she is led, by her Living Rill, to meditate on any fresh scene which exhibits the care of the Almighty in supplying the needs of his own redeemed ones.

"The wild gazelle on Judah's heights

Exulting yet may bound,

And drink from every living rill

That flows from holy ground."

-Yes, those happy ones, the hart, the hind, and the tender fawn, whose privilege it is to feed upon the mountains of Judah, exult and bound because they know themselves to be safe and all defended in their defencelessness: they repose under the shade of the cedars of the hills, and drink of every sparkling rill which distils from the bright clouds, resting like a crown of glory on the summits of their mountains.

It is to individuals tender and helpless, and wholly wanting in the cunning and discretion and thought needful for eminence in this present life, that the apparently devious course of the Living Rill now leads us; and if in the pursuit the reader should suddenly find that the gentle rill, along which we are endeavoring to lead him, met with fewer obstacles in that part of its course which now presents itself than it did in any other which may be brought before him, he may perchance arrive at stronger convictions than he ever before entertained, of the wisdom of this world being foolishness with God. Nay, he may find more ; he may, by the divine favor, arrive at this discovery, that more true wisdom necessarily exists in the simplest, weakest human creature who is instructed from above, than in the most acute and sagacious worldling whom society has ever exalted; for the first is taught to depend upon the omnipotent source of all good, whilst the last forms all his calculations, and builds all his hopes on things which his common sense and boastful reasonings can

not have failed to assure him must shortly pass away from his apprehension, as the shadows of the night before the eye of the day.

was.

The history of the life of Jocelyn was preserved by one not born till a few years after the death of Horace Langford-hence the narrative appears to have been very barren of incidents during the interval between that event and the period in which the child was able to remember. The family continued to live together at Barwell Court, and the justice, it seems, had made up his mind that his son and heir was incapable of improvement. He therefore sought only to make his life easy to him: he could not but see that he was perfectly harmless, and that he had sense enough for self-preservation; he therefore allowed him liberty to range at will about the domain with no other guard upon him than the servants, cottagers, and tenants about the estate, with each and all of whom he was set down as even more deficient than he really But this, it must be recollected, was the world's estimate of the poor boy. "The Lord seeth not as man seeth ;" and in His eyes Jocelyn was of much more account than many of the wise, the noble, and the learned. The simple truths of the Gospel had been so clearly, so kindly, and with such evidence of heart-felt earnestness, presented to his mind by Horace, that he had received them not only with deep anxiety, but with that intelligent curiosity which almost always accompanies the revelation of truth when it exactly meets the case of the recipient. Jocelyn was, in fact, an enlightened believer in the leading facts of scripture, and might have shamed many who invent doubts and difficulties as a means of evading the force with which the Bible ought to come home to the heart, forgetting that whilst it furnishes strong meat for those who are of full age, it is prodigal of milk for babes also.

And, indeed, what is there unintelligible to the meanest human capacity in the great facts of the Gospel. To know that if we would be happy we must be saved from misery here and hereafter that we cannot save ourselves, but that Christ can and will -these things constitute its marrow and fatness; and these things felt and understood, have strengthened, stablished, and settled the hopes of thousands, weak and despised as was poor Jocelyn Barwell.

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