sexton or beadle for keys, and a permission to be paid for. Not too gay for sorrow, nor too sad for love; but where there may be an indwelling sanctity that may hallow both; whence sorrow might receive comfort; and love, trust; where there is a sweet green shade for the tales of the young, and a lingering sunshine upon many a sod, to rest the aged as they sit, not unthankful that beneath their feet is the same home that will receive them, as it has received their kindred before them. Such is a scene of peace. Here the living may hope to "sleep with their fathers."

Anonymous.

THE worthiest people are frequently attacked by slander; as we generally find that to be the best fruit which the birds have been pecking at.

VILLAGE BELLS.

THERE is in souls a sympathy with sounds,
And as the mind is pitched, the ear is pleased
With melting airs or martial, brisk or grave;
Some chord in unison with what we hear
Is touch'd within us, and the heart replies.
How soft the music of those village bells,
Falling at intervals upon the ear

In cadence sweet, now dying all away,
Now pealing loud again, and louder still,
Clear and sonorous, as the gale comes on!
With easy force it opens all the cells
Where memory slept. Wherever I have heard
A kindred melody, the scene recurs,
And with it all its pleasures and its pains.
Such comprehensive views the spirit takes,
That in a few short moments I retrace
(As in a map the voyager his course)

The windings of my way through many years.

Short as in retrospect the journey seems,
It seem'd not always short; the rugged path
And prospect oft so dreary and forlorn,
Moved many a sigh at its disheartening length.
Yet feeling present evils, while the past
Faintly impress the mind, or not at all,
How readily we wish time spent revoked
That we might try the ground again, where once
(Through inexperience as we now perceive)
We miss'd that happiness we might have found!
Some friend is gone, perhaps his son's best friend,
A father, whose authority, in show

When most severe, and mustering all its force,
Was but the graver countenance of love:
Whose favour, like the clouds of spring, might lower
And utter now and then an awful voice,

But had a blessing in its darkest frown,
Threatening at once, and nourishing the plant.
We loved, but not enough, the gentle hand,
That rear'd us. At a thoughtless age, allured
By every gilded folly, we renounced

His sheltering side, and wilfully forewent
That converse which we now in vain regret.
How gladly would the man recall to life
The boy's neglected sire! a mother too,

That softer friend, perhaps more gladly still,
Might he demand them at the gates of death..
Sorrow has, since they went, subdued and tamed
The playful humour; he could now endure,
(Himself grown sober in the vale of tears)
And feel a parent's presence no restraint.
But not to understand a treasure's worth,
Till time has stolen away the slighted good,
Is cause of half the poverty we feel,

And makes the world the wilderness it is.
The few that pray at all pray oft amiss,

And, seeking grace to improve the prize they hold,
Would urge a wiser suit than asking more.

Cowper.

Too much reading, or too little meditation, produces the effect of a lamp inverted, which is extinguished by an excess of the very element which is meant to feed it.

THE QUARTERS OF LIFE.

THE seven ages of man have become proverbial; but in respect of the condition of our minds, there are granted to the best of us but four periods of life. The first fifteen years are childhood; we know nothing we hope. The next fifteen are passion and romance we dream. During the third period of fifteen years, from thirty to forty-five, we are what nature intended us to be. Character has formed; we pursue a course of life; we reason; we meditate. This is the period in which we may with most propriety be said to live. The fourth period is that of commencing decay. We may grow wiser, but it is the wisdom that speaks in a shake of the head. Pain and penitence begin — we sorrow, nevertheless if the third period has been passed in providing against the fourth, nature is changed, our declining years are lighted with happiness and love, and as they approach their destined end, instead of the