TIME. The window of a turret, which projected at an angle with the wall, and thus came to be very near Lovel's apartment, was half open, and from that quarter he heard again the same music which had probably broken short his dream. With its visionary character it had lost much of its charms-it was now nothing more than an air on the harpsichord, tolerably well performed-such is the caprice of imagination as affecting the fine arts. A female voice sung, with some taste and great simplicity, something between a song and a hymn, in words to the following effect : : "Why sitt'st thou by that ruin'd hall, Dost thou its former pride recall, Or ponder how it pass'd away?" "Know'st thou not me?" the Deep Voice cried; "So long enjoy'd, so oft misused Alternate, in thy fickle pride, Desired, neglected, and accused! "Before my breath, like blazing flax, And measureless thy joy or grief, When TIME and thou shalt part for ever." REBECCA'S HYMN. Antiquary. It was in the twilight of the day when her trial, if it could be called such, had taken place, that a low knock was heard at the door of Rebecca's prison chamber. It disturbed not the inmate, who was then engaged in the evening prayer recommended by her religion, and which concluded with a hymn, which we have ventured thus to translate into English : When Israel, of the Lord beloved, Out of the land of bondage came, The cloudy pillar glided slow; Return'd the fiery column's glow. There rose the choral hymn of praise, And trump and timbrel answer'd keen, No portents now our foes amaze, Forsaken Israel wanders lone: And oh, when stoops on Judah's path And mute are timbrel, trump, and horn. Ivanhoe. ELLEN-THE LADY OF THE LAKE. But scarce again his horn he wound, A little skiff shot to the bay. With head upraised, and look intent, In listening mood she seem'd to stand, And ne'er did Grecian chisel trace What though the sun, with ardent frown, A foot more light, a step more true, Ne'er from the heath-flower dash'd the dew; E'en the slight harebell raised its head, Elastic from her airy tread: What though upon her speech there hung Those silver sounds, so soft, so dear, A chieftain's daughter seem'd the maid; Her satin snood, her silken plaid, Her golden brooch, such birth betray'd. Such wild luxuriant ringlets hid, Whose glossy black to shame might bring With maiden pride the maid conceal'd, PATERNAL AFFECTION. Some feelings are to mortals given, From passion's dross refined and clear, The same. AN HOUR WITH THEE. An hour with thee! When earliest day One hour with Thee! One hour with thee! When burning June And more than cave or sheltering bough Cool feverish blood and throbbing brow? One hour with Thee! One hour with Thee! When sun is set, The increasing wants, and lessening gains, Woodstock. FAREWELL TO THE MUSE.1 Enchantress, farewell, who so oft has decoy'd me Farewell, and take with thee thy numbers wild speaking Oh! none but some lover, whose heart-strings are breaking, Each joy thou couldst double, and when there came sorrow, What voice was like thine, that could sing of to-morrow, But when friends drop around us in life's weary waning, As vain thine enchantments, O Queen of wild Numbers, THE NECESSITY AND DIGNITY OF LABOUR. I rely upon it that you are now working hard in the classical mine, getting out the rubbish as fast as you can, and preparing yourself to collect the ore. I cannot too much impress upon your mind that labour is the condition which God has imposed on us in every station of life-there is nothing worth having that can be had without it, from the bread which the peasant wins with the sweat of his brow, to the sports by which the rich man must get rid of his ennui. The only difference betwixt them is, that the poor man 1822. Written, during illness, for Mr. Thomson's Scottish Collection, and first published in labors to get a dinner to his appetite, the rich man to get an appetite to his dinner. As for knowledge, it can no more be planted in the human mind without labor, than a field of wheat can be produced without the previous use of the plough. There is indeed this great difference, that chance or circumstances may so cause it that another shall reap what the farmer sows; but no man can be deprived, whether by accident or misfortune, of the fruits of his own studies; and the liberal and extended acquisitions of knowledge which he makes are all for his own use. Labour, my dear boy, therefore, and improve the time. In youth our steps are light, and our minds are ductile, and knowledge is easily laid up. But if we neglect our spring, our summer will be useless and contemptible, our harvest will be chaff, and the winter of our old age unrespected and desolate. From a Letter to his Son. EDUCATION OF THE HEART. I fear you have some very young ideas in your head. Are you not too apt to measure things by some reference to literature-to disbelieve that anybody can be worth much care who has no knowledge of that sort of thing, or taste for it! God help us! what a poor world this would be if that were the true doctrine! I have read books enough, and observed and conversed with enough of eminent and splendidly cultivated minds, too, in my time; but I assure you, I have heard higher sentiments from the lips of the poor, uneducated men and women, when exerting the spirit of severe yet gentle heroism under difficulties and afflictions, or speaking their simple thoughts as to circumstances in the lot of friends and neighbors, than I ever yet met with out of the pages of the Bible. We shall never learn to feel and respect our real calling and destiny, unless we have taught ourselves to consider every thing as moonshine compared with the education of the heart. From his Life. A TRUE MAN. The man whom I call deserving the name, is one whose thoughts and exertions are for others rather than himself,-whose high purpose is adopted on just principles, and never abandoned while heaven or earth affords means of accomplishing it. He is one who will neither seek an indirect advantage by a specious road, nor take an evil path to secure a really good purpose. Such a man were one for whom a woman's heart should beat constant while he breathes, and break when he dies.1 A much fuller, nobler definition of a "True Man," is the following by the great Christian philosopher, Sir Robert Boyle: "In my apprehension, the man that has a great mind is he that uses his utmost moral |