"Wretch'd and terrified I sank

Before the blazing throne; Under those rays intense I shrank, Amid the crowd alone.

"Yet spake they ever in mine ear, 'Come, sing with soften'd heart;' I cannot--will not--leave me here, Or let me hence depart

"I said, and thunder fill'd the dome, The pavement cleaved below:'Come, rebel, to thy chosen home, With us, O sinner, go!'

“I heard—and sank in fire and flame,
Down, down a fearful deep;
Stern voices call'd me by my name-
I started from my sleep.

"'Twas folly all," the dreamer said; The pious sisters wept,

And fervently for her they pray'd
That night before they slept.

And she too slept: they rose again
To prayer at dawn of day;
They strove to waken her in vain,
A stiffen'd corpse she lay!

Judge not, but reverently hear
The warning sent for all;

Thou liv'st!-the Saviour still is near,-
On Him, O sinner, call!

What was the dream ?-A foresight given,
No heart unchanged may share,

(Even could it reach the courts of Heaven,)
The bliss o'erflowing there.

A CONCISE LETTER FROM A YOUNG GENTLEMAN
IN B. COLLEGE IN OXFORD, TO HIS FATHER IN
THE COUNTRY.

DEAR SIR,

I write this to-night, Monday; I shall put it into the post-office to-morrow, Tuesday; it will be in town on Wednesday; and you will receive it at Greenwich on Thursday. Pray let me have some money on Friday; I shall set off by the mail on Saturday; and will be with you on Sunday.

Yours most dutifully,

W. D.

REST.

REST, rest! how sweet the sound!
Who would not taste of rest?
And long to lean, like blessed John,
On his Redeemer's breast?

He cannot yet have learn'd to know
'Tis vain to look for rest below.

Each generation, man by man,
Though all have fail'd before,
Hope they may reach some happy time
When care shall be no more.

They drink at earth's polluted streams,
And lull themselves in shadowy dreams.

Why should we seek for rest,

Where rest can ne'er be found? Why twine the tendrils of the heart Earth's fragile props around? While disappointment's bitter tear, Marks their departure year by year.

There is a love of rest

Within the human heart ;-
The busiest of the busy crowd
On fortune's changeful mart,
Hopes in retirement's sweet repose
The evening of his days to close.

Fortune on him may smile,
The leisure hours arrive,

Then will contending passions cease,
Within his breast to strive ;

His house, his trees, his parks are fair,
But peace unbroken dwells not there.

Vain is the hope, on earth
Unbroken peace to find;

No outward circumstance alone,

Can soothe the deathless mind

Unsatisfied, it turns away

From all that hastens to decay.

And yet, how blindly cleave

Our souls unto the dust; Often deceived they turn again Some broken reed to trust.

Though clouds have overspread the past, Hope speaks of sunshine at the last.

Rest, sweet is nightly rest,

After a day of toil,

The privilege of hours apart,

From earth's unquiet turmoil.

And to the spirit bruised and torn,
How doubly bless'd the Sabbath morn!

Association's wondrous power

Breathes in this hallow'd time,

The sounds of earth and ocean, seem
To form one Sabbath chime.

And the believer's soul, through grace,
Longs to see Jesus face to face.

Even in this world of woe,

Our souls may taste of peace,
And anxious fears that vex the mind,
May in a measure cease.

When feeling yields her wild control,
And faith reigns in the chasten'd soul.

M. MACKAY.

THE MAN OF ROSS.

Ross, a town in Herefordshire, is beautifully situated on the river Wye. The various windings, and romantic scenery of this river, its ruined abbeys, castles, rocks, &c., whether as viewed by the traveller by land or by water, are too well known to require much further description. Limners from all countries bend hither their steps, and the Tourist Guides are now embellished with almost fac-similes of the objects of interest, and charming scenery between Chepstow and Ross. The "Man of Ross was descended from James Ryde Money, Esq. of Mude Morde, in Herefordshire, who married Caroline Anne Taylor in 1811, amongst whose descendants was Walter of Ross, barrister, and justice of the peace; he married Alice, daughter and sole heiress of John Mallet of Berkeley, in the county of Gloucester, and dying in February 1650, left two sons, one of whom was John, the Man of Ross. The