ribah. Take Aaron and Eleazar his son, and bring them up unto Mount Hor: and strip Aaron of his garments, and put them upon Eleazar his son; and Aaron shall be gathered unto his people, and shall die there. And Moses did as the Lord commanded: and they went up into Mount Hor in the sight of all the congregation. And Moses stripped Aaron of his garments, and put them upon Eleazar his son; and Aaron died there in the top of the mount: and Moses and Eleazar came down from the mount.

And when all the congregation saw that Aaron was dead, they mourned for Aaron thirty days, even all the house of Israel. (Numbers xx. 23-29.)

The tomb of Aaron on Mount Hor is one of the most conspicuous objects in the land of Edom; after having remained unknown to Jews and Christians for so many centuries as have elapsed since the death of the first high priest of Israel, it has been discovered again within the last few years, situated in the midst of a land whose inhabitants in ancient times were

among the most inveterate enemies of the Israelites, and whose present occupants are wild Arabs equally opposed to the Jewish and Christian faith.

When the days of mourning for Aaron were passed, the Israelites went and encamped at Zalmona, which signifies "the place of the image," a name which it received from the representation of a serpent erected by Moses. The rebellious Israelites once more gave vent to seditious murmurings, and

The Lord sent fiery serpents among the people, and they bit the people; and much people of Israel died. Therefore the people came to Moses, and said, We have sinned, for we have spoken against the Lord, and against thee; pray unto the Lord, that he take away the serpents from us.

And Moses prayed for the people. And the Lord said unto Moses, Make thee a fiery serpent, and set it upon a pole: and it shall come to pass, that every one that is bitten, when he looketh upon it, shall live. And Moses made a serpent of brass, and put it upon a pole, and it came to pass, that if a serpent had bitten any man, when he beheld the serpent of brass, he lived. (Numbers xxi. 6-9.)

This lively image of the deliverance of the whole human race from the power of "the old serpent," is a remarkable type of our Great Redeemer, and one to which He himself has distinctly referred.

As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up: that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life. (John iii. 14, 15.)

But this memorial of their wondrous deliverance

subsequently became a snare to the idolatrous Jews; for the worship of the principle of evil, through fear, under the form of a serpent, was, as we have stated in the first paper of this series, one of the most cominon forms of idolatrous superstition, not only in

WORSHIP OF THE SERPENT.

to account for a worship so degrading to humanity, and utterly inconsistent with every suggestion of reason or natural feeling, otherwise than by connecting it with the traditions respecting the fall of man, traces of which are found in the mythologies of all ancient nations. The Jews worshipped the brasen serpent when they sank into the idolatry which had already proved so fatal to their brethren, the ten tribes of Israel. From the general neglect of sacred things, it is probable that the bulk, both of the priests and the people, had forgotten the original purpose and signification of the consecrated image, and had eagerly seized the opportunity afforded by its preservation in the sanctuary, to indulge their insane love for adopting the superstitions of surrounding nations. Hence the brasen serpent was destroyed by the good king, Hezekiah, when he purified Judah from the idols which had been erected during the long period of corruption that preceded his accession to the throne of David.

He removed the high places, and brake the images, and cut down the groves, and brake in pieces the brasen serpent that Moses had made: for unto those days the children of Israel did burn incense to it: and he called it Nehushtan. (2 Kings xviii. 4.)

Nehushtan signifies a piece of brass," and Hezekiah gave the idol that contemptuous name, in order to show that when the brasen serpent had fulfilled the purpose for which God caused it to be made, it possessed no more sanctity or importance than any other piece of metal. This was the more necessary, as nothing has more tended to extend the worship of images, than venerating the relics or memorials of providential events; a snare into which not only the Jews, but several Christian nations have unfortunately fallen.

After the Israelites had conquered the Amorites and several other warlike tribes, a terror fell upon the surrounding nations, and Balak, king of Moab, employed the Midianite prophet, Balaam, to curse them. But Balaam, constrained by Almighty power, was compelled to change his words of execration into benediction, and "bless the children of Israel altogether." The unworthy prophet, however, found more efficacious means to injure the chosen race; at his suggestion Balak directed his subjects to celebrate the festival of Baal-Peor, or the Idol of Lust, whose worship consisted in the most abominable and licentious ceremonies, but which, under various forms, was not only tolerated but encouraged by most of the ancient heathen nations, even when they had made a considerable advance in civilization. The Israelites had probably been acquainted with this form of idolatry in Egypt, for the figure in the following engraving is believed to be one of the deities worshipped with obscene and execrable rites; they therefore yielded to the suggestions of the daughters of Moab, who had been sent to entice them.

And they called the people unto the sacrifices of their gods: and the people did eat and bowed down to their gods. And Israel joined himself unto Baalpeor: and the anger of the Lord was kindled against Israel. (Numbers xxv. 2, 3.)

The immediate chastisement of the worst offenders averted the vengeance of Jehovah; the false prophet, Balaam, was soon after slain, together with a multititude of the Midianites, who had joined in leading the Israelites into this grievous crime.

Soon after this defection Moses took an account of the people, and found that none were left alive of those who had come up out of Egypt, save himself, Joshua, and Caleb; he then made the necessary regulations for the distribution of Canaan between the several tribes by lot, and having thus completed his legislation, he ascended Mount Nebo, one of the highest peaks in the chain of Abarim, whence he had a view of the promised land, which he was forbidden to enter. Instead of murmuring at this dispensation, Moses humbly sought directions as to the choice of his successor :

Moses spake unto the Lord, saying, Let the Lord, the God of the spirits of all flesh, set a man over the congre- | gation, which may go out before them, and which may go in before them, and which may lead them out, and which may bring them in; that the congregation of the Lord be not as sheep which have no shepherd. (Numbers xxvii. 15-17.)

Moses, having thus accomplished all the injunctions of Jehovah, addressed the children of Israel, in a most poetic and affectionate recapitulation of the blessings they had experienced, and of the duties they owed to their Benefactor. He died at the advanced age of one hundred and twenty; "his eye was not dim, nor his natural force abated." His sepulchre was carefully concealed, in order that it might not become an object of idolatrous veneration to the Israelites. It is to this that St. Jude alludes in the following passage, which refers to a tradition common among the Jews.

Yet Michael the archangel, when, contending with the devil, he disputed about the body of Moses, durst not bring against him a railing accusation, but said, The Lord rebuke thee. (Jude 9.)

No doubt, a people that worshipped the brasen serpent, would have shown at least equal reverence for the body and tomb of their great legislator, had not both been concealed by the wise precautions of Providence.

Joshua was selected by God to lead the Israelites to the conquest of Canaan, and the directions given for his installation are, on many accounts, tco important to be omitted.

The Lord said unto Moses, Take thee Joshua, the son of Nun, a man in whom is the spirit, and lay thine hand upon him; And set him before Eleazar the priest, and before all the congregation; and give him a charge in their sight. And thou shalt put some of thine honour upon him, that all the congregation of the children of Israel may be obedient. And he shall stand before Eleazar the priest, who

SINGULAR MODE OF FISHING IN TYROL.

WHILE travelling along the banks of a small branch of the Inn river, in the Tyrol, with my hammer in my hand, searching for specimens of the rocks and minerals which are found in its bed, my attention was suddenly attracted to the operations of a lad about sixteen years old, who was actively employed in examining the water-worn rocks that lay partly above water in the stream. Every few minutes he struck the rocks heavily with a large sledge-hammer, and then picked up something, and put it into a basket, which he carried at his side. He moved actively, jumping from rock to rock along the stream, and appeared to be very successful in his labour. As he was coming down the stream towards me, I seated myself on a rock, and observed attentively his movements. I supposed at first that he was a brother mineralogist, and as he approached me, I hailed him to learn what success he had in his researches, and what he was so eagerly collecting. To my great surprise I found his basket filled, not with curious minerals, but with small and delicate fishes, resembling in size our common smelt, but in shape and colour they looked more like anchovies. He informed me that they were esteemed a great luxury at Inspruck, and were the most delicate fish of Tyrol. His mode of taking them was the most successful, for he observed that they would not take the hook, and as they

his word they shall come in, both he, and all the children

of Israel with him, even all the congregation. And Moses did as the Lord commanded him and he took Joshua, and set him before Eleazar the priest, and before all the congregation: And he laid his hands upon him, and gave him a charge, as the Lord commanded by the hand of Moses. (Numbers xxvii. 18-23.)

In Deuteronomy, chap. xviii. 15, Moses declares, The Lord thy God will raise up unto thee a Prophet from the midst of thee, of thy brethren, like unto me; unto him ye shall hearken; According to all that thou desiredst of the Lord thy God in Horeb in the day of the assembly, saying, Let me not hear again the voice of the Lord my God, neither let me see this great fire any more, that I die not.

The modern Jews affirm, that this prophecy was fulfilled by the appointment of Joshua as successor of Moses; but if we attentively consider the divine declaration, made at the time of his appointment, we shall see that Joshua was not only inferior to Moses, but to the generality of the prophets, since he was to have recourse to the urim and thummím in all emergencies, whereas the former spoke to God "face to face," and the latter were always ready to declare the mind of God to those that came to consult them. In fact, Joshua could not be at all called a prophet without a great abuse of terms, for he was himself subject to direction, and received all revelations of the Divine will through the intervention of the high priest,

It will be easily understood, by any one conversant with natural philosophy, how the concussion given to a rock in the brook was communicated, either directly by the rock, or through the medium of the water, to the fish, whose delicate organization could not sustain its violence, and that they were in this manner stunned, and their sounds or airvessels being ruptured, they came to the surface, where they were easily taken. I often observed, when a boy, that if a smelt dropped from the hook, at a considerable height, into the water, it was stunned by the shock, and floated upon its back; also that when a fish was discovered close to the bottom, in shallow water, the surface of which was frozen, if a smart blow was struck upon the ice, immedi ately over the fish, it generally came up to the ice, floating upon its back and dead. We were in the habit of explaining the fact by saying that its air-bladder was broken.

IT is not more evident that the body was made to be improved and strengthened, than that the mind was also made to be improved by knowledge; hence he who learns, if he learns well, not only finds learning easier the further he advances, but understands better what he learns. Science is not arbitrary, or composed of detached and isolated parts; it is one connected series of truths, centreing in the Deity. and embracing the largest and the smallest, the nearest and the most remote, portions of his universe. So he who learns not, or ceases to learn, does not fulfil his destinywhich is, to become acquainted, as far as in his power, with all truth. He can know neither his Creator nor himself; although his greatest happiness depends upon this knowledge.-?

ON BELLOWS.

THE bellows is one of those domestic instruments which are so familiar to us that we are apt to forget that there was a time when it did not exist, and that it must have gone through several stages before it arrived at its present excellence. It may not be uninteresting to present to our readers a short account of the contrivances which preceded the use of, and were employed for the same purpose as, the modern bellows. The most simple bellows is undoubtedly the mouth; since the same mechanism which will direct a stream of air into a flute or trumpet, will, by a different arrangement of the lips and tongue, propel a blast of air into a newly-kindled fire; the object being to supply the fire with a larger amount of oxygen (contained in the atmospheric air,) than will reach it in the ordinary way But although the mouth may, as most persons have probably observed, act as a bellows, yet the fatiguing nature of the process must at an early period have induced a desire to construct a machine for effecting the same object.

There are many remarks scattered among the works of the ancient writers which seem to imply that leathern bellows were known among them; but the information conveyed is not so definite as to deserve much reliance. It appears that in later times, when smelting-furnaces, used in manufacturing districts, had increased in number and importance, the heat of the furnaces was increased by the use of bellows, which seem to have consisted of leathern bags, with a hollow reed inserted at a small opening. After a time metal tubes were used instead of hollow reeds, and the leathern bags became superseded by wooden cases.

As we are accustomed, in the present day, to use bellows in which the edges of the boards are connected by strips of flexible leather, it may seem strange that bellows should have been used which were constructed entirely of wood, with the exception of the nozzle. Yet such was the case. In 1550 an organ-builder at Nuremburg, named Hans Lobsinger, announced the construction of bellows, in which the sides, as well as the top and bottom, were made of wood. No further details are, however, known respecting his bellows. But about 1630, two brothers, Martin and Nicholas Schelhorn, at Coburg, in Franconia, constructed wooden bellows, of which a clearer account has been transmitted. These brothers behaved as inventors are wont to do: they endeavoured to conceal the nature of their invention, until they had reaped an adequate profit by the manufacture.

About the same period, an individual named Louis Pfannenschmid came from Thuringia, and settled at Ostfeld in the Hartz Forest, where many furnaces were at work, and set up business as a wooden bellowsmaker. The makers of leather bellows, who previously lived in that place, conspired against him, and swore they would put him to death-a threat which would

It is obvious that when the upper half of the case was raised by a handle at one end, the space between the two halves became enlarged, and a greater bulk of air could be contained therein. This air entered at a valve-hole in the lower half, as in the ordinary bellows. As it would have been impossible, however, to make the upper box fit on the lower one so closely as to be air-tight, much air would escape from between the two, instead of passing through the nozzle. To obviate this, moveable slips of wood were placed on the inner sides of the uppermost case, and were so acted on by metallic springs, that they became pressed against the sides of the lower case, so that no air could pass out between the edges of the two cases.

Beck

These bellows were sometimes made of a large size, to be used in furnaces; and the end of the handle had facilities for fixing ropes, &c., so as to work the bellows by pulleys, or other similar means. mann, who wrote in the last century, said that these wooden bellows, when well made, would last thirty or forty years, although used almost daily in furnaces. The bolt which acted as a hinge, and the outer side of the edge of the inner box required to be oiled and greased occasionally.

These wooden bellows are now superseded, for domestic use, by the modern bellows with leathern edges, which can be made and sold for a small price; while furnaces, forges, &c., are, generally speaking, furnished with large double bellows, the action of which, as instanced at a smith's forge, may be briefly described. The double bellows nearly resemble the single or domestic bellows in external appearance; but the interior cavity is divided into two parts or chambers by a middle board, similar to the lower board, and furnished also, like it, with an upwardopening valve: these three boards are connected at the edges by leather. The middle board is fixed horizontally; and the nozzle is in communication with the upper compartment, only at the time when air is about entering the lower compartment. This being the disposition of the parts, the action is as follows. When the lower board is raised by the handle, the air contained in the lower compartment is driven through the valve in the middle board, into the upper compartment. The quantity thus forced into this compartment is greater than can escape through the nozzle in the same time; the consequence of which is, that the upper board is pressed upwards, so as to enlarge the capacity of that chamber. Weights are placed upon the upper and lower boards, by which they are borne down, when the upward motion of the handle ceases. As the upper board descends, the air contained in the upper compartment closes the valve in the middle board, and is forced out through the nozzle. During this time, the lower compartment, by the descent of the lower board, obtains a new supply of air; which

been formally protected by the government. The mode of making these wooden bellows was for a long series of years known only to the family of Pfannenschmid, who continued to make all those used in the Hartz Forest. From Germany these bellows gradually found their way into France.

These bellows consisted mainly of two boxes, or cases, made of fir wood, one of which was a little smaller than the other, so as to be able to be placed within it, and to enclose a body of air between them. At one end was situated a kind of hinge, on which the upper case turned, somewhat in the manner of the lid of a snuff-box. Beyond this hinge was a nozzle, through which a portion of air was forced out, at everv downward motion of the upper half of the case.

partly propelled through the nozzle, and partly accumulated in the upper compartment, as before. By this ingenious arrangement, air is forced through the nozzle, both by the upward and downward motion of the handle; whereas in the common single bellows the downward motion is alone effective.

There is a useful form of domestic bellows, which has been lately invented, in which a continuous stream of air is obtained, by turning a handle connected with an ingenious contrivance in the interior.

AUSTRALIA FELIX. No. II.

NATIVES ON THE DARLING.

We continue our extracts from Major Mitchell's interesting account of his discovery of Australia Felix.

Two stout natives rudely demanded my pistols from my belt, whereupon I drew one, curious to see the effect, and fired it at a tree. The scene which followed I cannot satisfactorily describe, or represent, although I shall never forget it. As if they had previously suspected we were evil demons, and had at length a clear proof of it, they repeated, with tenfold fury, accompanied with hideous shouts and demoniac looks, crouching and jumping to a war-song they set up, al! their gestures of defiance; spitting, springing with the spear, and throwing dust at us, as they slowly retired. In short, their hideous crouching, measured gestures, and low jumps, all to the tune of a wild song, and the fiendish glare of their countenances, appropriately black, and now all eyes and teeth, seemed a fitter spectacle for Pandemonium, than the light of the bounteous sun. Thus these savages slowly retired along the river-bank, all the while dancing in a circle, like the witches in Macbeth, and leaving us in the expectation of their return, and perhaps an attack in the morning. Any further attempt to appease them was out of the question; whether they were by nature implacable, or whether their inveterate hostility proceeded from some cause of disquiet or apprehension unimaginable to us, it was too probable they might ere long force upon us the painful necessity for making them acquainted with the superiority of our arms. The manner and disposition of these people were so unlike those of the natives in general, that I hoped they might be an exception to the general character of those we were to meet with: an evil-disposed tribe perhaps, and at war with all around them. The difference in disposition between tribes not very remote from each other was often very striking. We had left, at only three days' journey behind us, a tribe of as kind and civil natives as any I had met with; and I was rather at a loss now to understand how they could exist so near fiends like these. I believe the peculiar character of different tribes is not to be easily changed by circumstances. I could certainly mention more instances of well-disposed tribes on the Darling, where indeed, until now, all had met us half way with the branch of peace. We had not yet accomplished one half of our journey to the Murray, from the junction of the Bogan and Darling, and it was no very pleasant prospect still before us, to have to travel such a distance where all the inhabitants might be like these.

THE RIVER MURRAY.

Proceeding next directly towards some high trees at the western extremity of the plains, we reached a favourable bend of the Murray, and there encamped.

This magnificent stream was 165 yards broad, its waters were whitish, as if tinged with some flood, the height of the red bank not subject to inundation, was 25 feet, and by comparing these measurements with the Murrumbidgee, which at Weyeba was 50 yards wide, with banks 11 feet high, (and that seemed a fine river,) some idea may be formed of the Murray. At the place where we encamped the river had no bergs, for its bank conissted of the common red earth, covered with the acacia bushes and scrub of the interior plains. The land at the point opposite was lower, with sand, and a slight rapid was occasioned in the stream by a dike of ironstone.

AUSTRALIAN RIVERS.

One remarkable difference between the Murray and the Murrumbidgee was, that in the latter, even where reeds most prevailed, a certain space near the bank remained tolerably clear: whereas on this river, on the contrary, the reeds grew most thickly and closely on its immediate banks, thus presenting a much less imposing appearance than the Murrumbidgee, with its firmer banks, crowned with lofty forests of "yarra." Each Australian river seems to have some peculiar character, sustained with remarkable uniformity throughout the whole course.

APPROACH TO AUSTRALIA FELIX.

June 29. The party moved forward in the direction of Mount Hope, and leaving the hill on the left, continued towards Pyramid Hill, where we encamped at about threequarters of a mile from its base. We were under no re

straint now in selecting a camp from any scarcity of water or grass, for every hollow in the plains contained some water, and grass grew everywhere. The strips of wood which diversified the country, as seen from the hills, generally enclosed a hollow, with polygonum bushes, but without any marks of ever having had any water in them, although it may be presumed that that in very wet seasons, it must lodge there, as in so many canals, and this, indeed, seemed to me to be a country where canals would answer well, not so much perhaps for inland navigation, as for the better distribution of water over a fertile country, enclosed as this is by copious rivers.

RICHNESS OF THE SOIL.

July 9.-In continuing the same line of route, we crossed several minor rivulets, all flowing through open grassy vales, bounded by finely-undulating hills. At about three miles we came to a deep chain of ponds, the banks being steep and covered with grass: keeping a tributary to that channel on our left, we passed some low hills of quartz; and a little beyond them, at length crossed some poor hills of the same rock, the wood being an open box-forest. After travelling through a little bit of scrub, we descended on one of the most beautiful spots I ever saw;-the turf, and the woods, and the banks of the little stream which murmured through the vale, had so much the appearance of a well-kept park, that I felt loth to break it by the passage of our cart-wheels. Proceeding for a mile and a half along this rivulet through a valley wholly of the same description, we at length encamped on a flat of a rich earth (nearly quite black), and where the anthistiria grew in greater luxuriance than I had ever before witnessed in Australian grass. The earth seemed to surpass in richness any that I had seen in New South Wales, and I was even tempted to bring away a specimen of it.

SENSATIONS ON DISCOVERY.

July 13. We had at length discovered a country ready for the immediate reception of civilized man, and fit to become eventually one of the great nations of the earth Unincumbered with too much wood, yet possessing enough for all purposes; with an exuberant soil under a temperate climate; bounded by the sea-coast and mighty rivers, and watered abundantly by streams from lofty mountains: this highly-interesting region lay before me with all its features new and untouched as they fell from the hand of the Creator! Of this Eden it seemed that I was the only Adam; and it was indeed a sort of paradise to me, permitted thus to be the first to explore its mountains and streams-to behold its scenery-to investigate its geological character-and, finally, by my survey, to develop those natural advantages all still unknown to the civilized world, but yet certain to become, at no distant date, of vast importance to a new people. The lofty mountain-range which I had seen on the 11th was now before us, but still distant between thirty and forty miles; and as the cattle required rest, I determined on an excursion to its lofty eastern summit.

SUNRISE ON THE GRAMPIANS.

July 15. At six o'clock the sky became clear, the clouds had for once indeed left the mountain, and as soon as it was day, I mounted the frozen rock. But in the twilight all lower objects were blended in one gray shade, like the dead-colouring of a picture. I could only distinguish a pool of water, apparently near the foot of a mountain. This water I afterwards found to be a lake eight miles distant, and which I named Lake Lonsdale. I hastily levelled my theodolite, but the scene, although sublime enough for the theme of a poet, was not at all suited to the more commonplace objects of a surveyor, for the lower world was as obscure and undefined as our ideas of the world to come. The sun was rising amid red and stormy clouds, and vast masses of a white vapour concealed from view both sea and land, save where a few isolated hills were dimly visible. Towards the interior, the horizon was clear for a while; and during a short interval, I took what angles I could obtain. To the westward, the view of the mountain-ranges was truly grand. Southward, or towards the sea, I could, at intervals, perceive plains clear of timber, and that the country was level, a circumstance of great importance to us; for I was apprehensive that between these mountains and the coast, the country might have been broken by mountain-gullies, as it is in the settled colony, and all along the eastern coast, in which case the carts could not

have been taken there, and I must have altered the plan of my intended route. Before I could observe the angles so desirable, clouds again enveloped the mountain, and I was compelled finally to quit its summit, without completing the work. The wind blew keenly, the thermometer stood as low as 27°, and in the morning the rocks were incrusted with ice.

THE RIVER GLENELG.

July 31. We now moved merrily over hill and dale, but were soon, however, brought to a full stop by a fine river, flowing, at the point where we met it, nearly south-west. The banks of this stream were thickly overhung with bushes of the mimosa, which were festooned in a very picturesque manner with the wild vine. The river was everywhere deep and full, and as no ford could be found, we prepared to cross it with the boats.

The river was here, on an average, 120 feet wide, and 12 feet deep. Granite protruded in some places, but in general, the bold features of the valley through which this stream flowed, were beautifully smooth and swelling; they were not much wooded, but on the contrary, almost clear of timber, and accessible everywhere. The features were bold and round, but only so much inclined, that it was possible to ride in any direction without obstruction; a quality of which those who have been shut up among the rocky gullies of New South Wales must know well the value. I named this river the Glenelg, after the Right Honourable the Secretary of State for the Colonies.

east.

EMBOUCHURE OF THE GLENELG.

At length another change took place in the general course of the river, which from west turned to east-southThe height of the banks appeared to diminish rapidly, and a very numerous flock of the small sea-swallow, or tern, indicated our vicinity to the sea. The slow-flying pelican also, with its huge bill, pursued, regardless of strangers, its straight-forward course over the waters. A small bushy island next appeared, having on it some rocks resembling what we should have thought a great treasure then, a pile of flour-bags, and we named it accordingly the Isle of Bags. Soon after passing the island, a few low sandy-looking hills appeared before us, and we found ourselves between two basins wherein the water was very shallow, although we had sounded just before in four fathoms. As a wide basin which then appeared directly before us had no outlet, we proceeded into another on the right, and on rounding a low rocky point, we saw the green rolling breakers of the sea through an opening straight before us, which proved to be the mouth of the river. It consisted of two low rocky points, and as soon as we had pulled outside of them, we landed on the eastern

one.

In the two basins we had seen, there was scarcely sufficient water to float the boats, and thus our hopes of finding a port at the mouth of this fine river were at once at an end. The sea broke on a sandy beach outside, and on ascending one of the sand-hills near it, I perceived Cape Northumberland.

There was no reef of rocks upon the bar; a circumstance to be regretted in this case, for it was obvious that the entrance to this fine river and the two basins was merely choked up with the sand thrown up by the sea. The river was four fathoms deep, the water being nearly fresh enough for use within sight of the sea-shore. Unfortunately, perhaps, for navigation, there is but little tide on that coast: the greatest rise in the lower part of the river, (judging by the floating weeds,) did not exceed a foot.

TO THE WEATHERCOCK,

The dawn has broke, the morn is up,
Another day begun,

And there thy poised and gilded spear

Is flashing in the sun,

Upon that steep and lofty tower

Where thou thy watch hast kept,

A true and faithful sentinel,

While all around thee slept.

For years, upon thee there has poured,

The summer's noon-day heat,

And through the long, dark, starless night,

The winter storms have beat;

But yet thy duty has been done,
By day and night the same ;

Still thou hast watched and met the storm.
Whichever way it came.

No chilling blast in wrath has swept
Along the distant heaven,
But thou hast watch upon it kept,
And instant warning given;
And when midsummer's sultry beams
Oppress all living things,

Thou dost foretell each breeze that comes
With health upon its wings.

How oft I 've seen, at early dawn,
Or twilight's quiet hour,
The swallows, in their joyous glee,
Come darting round thy tower,
As if, with thee, to hail the sun,
And catch his earliest light,
And offer ye the morn's salute,
Or bid ye both-good night.

And when around thee, or above,
No breath of air has stirred,
Thou seem'dst to watch the circling flight
Of each free, happy bird;
Till, after twittering round thy head,
In many a mazy track,
The whole delighted company
Have settled on thy back.

Then, if perchance amid their mirth,
A gentle breeze has sprung,
And prompt to mark its first approach,
Thy eager form has swung,
I've thought I almost neard thee say,
As far aloft they flew,
'Now all away!-here ends our play,
For I have work to do!"

Men slander thee, my honest friend,
And call thee, in their pride,
An emblem of their fickleness,

Thou ever-faithful guide!
Each weak, unstable human mind
A 'weathercock' they call;
And thus, unthinkingly, mankind
Abuse thee, one and all.

They have no right to make thy name
A by-word for their deeds :

They change their friends, their principles,
Their fashions, and their creeds;
While thou hast ne'er, like them, been known
Thus causelessly to range,

But when thou changest sides, canst give
Good reason for the change.

Thou, like some lofty soul, whose course
The thoughtless oft condemn,
Art touched by many airs from heaven
Which never breathe on them;
And moved by many impulses
Which they do never know,

Who, 'round their earth-bound circles, plod
The dusty paths below.

Through one more dark and cheerless night
Thou well hast kept thy trust,
And now in glory o'er thy head
The morning light has burst :
And unto earth's true watcher, thus,
When his dark hours have passed,
Will come 'the day-spring from on high,
To cheer his path, at last.

Bright symbol of fidelity,

Still may I think of thee;

And may the lesson thou dost teach,

Be never lost on me:

But still, in sunshine or in storm,

Whatever task is mine,

May I be faithful to my trust,

As thou hast been to thine. -A. G. GREENE.