their arms thrown over him. The child stretched out his little hands towards his deliverer, and his first word was-bread! It was now the third day that not a morsel of food had entered his lips.

The parents lay still in a perfect stupor : they had never heard the bursting open of the door, and felt nothing of the embraces of their agitated friend. Their wasted eyes were directed towards the boy; and the tenderest expressions of pity were in the look" with which they had last beheld him, and still saw him dying.

Their friend hastened to take measures for their deliverance; but could not succeed without difficulty. They thought they had already done with the troubles of the world, and were suddenly terrified at being forced into them again! Void of sense and reflection, they submitted to the attempts that were made to restore them to life. At length their friend hit upon the most efficacious means. He took the child from their arms, and thus called up the last spark of paternal and maternal tenderness. He gave the child to eat, who with one hand held his bread, and with the other alternately shook his father and mother; his piteous moans roused them at length from their death-like slumber. It seemed at once to awaken a new love of life in their hearts, when they' saw that their child had left the bed and their embraces,

Their friend pro

Nature did her office. cured them strengthening broths, which he put in their lips with the utmost caution, and did not leave them till every symptom of restored life was fully visible. Thus were they saved.

This transaction made much noise in Paris, and at length reached the ears of the Mar chioness de Pompadour. Boissy's deplorable situation moved her. She immediately sent him a hundred louis d'ors, and soon af ter procured him the profitable place of controlleur du Merture de France, with a pension for his wife and child, if they outlived him.

FOR THE POLYANTHOS.

The following theme was written by a young Miss, at Sterling, and nation, in March 1806. en by one of the visitors,

ume.

spoken at the examiThe theme was givthe premium a Vol

"How still the morning of this hallowed day!
"Mute is the voice of rural labour, hush'd

**The plough boy's whistle and the milkmaid's song."

Grahame.

AUSPICIOUS morning! celebrated by angels, chanting hallelujahs to him who burst the bars of death, and triumphed over the grave. Shall men observe a dumb silence? The plough boy may suspend his unmeaning whistle; and the ruddy milkmaid her innocent song; yet they will with reverence

join in an hymn of devout adoration and thanksgiving. How charming is this day? See the rich and the poor, the old and the young, repair to the temple of the Lord. The swain, at dawn of day, beats away the dew of the night to bathe himself, and restore his tired limbs; and another, with active steps, hurries to the assembly, and long anticipates the sound of the deep-toned bell; all join in praise ;-praise universal echoes from every heart. On this divine jubilee-this day of rest, the toils and hardships of the week are forgotten-and hushed are all the savage passions. Thus, dressed in cleanly robes, and like the king's daughter all glorious within," the people walk onward to the temple of Zion. Éver grateful day! I hail thee king of other days-king of domestick peace-of pleasure-of rest! Thou art ever welcome, ever lovely-whether in winter's frozen robe, or autumn's rural walks, to taste her richest fruits; or summer's sultry rays, to sit beneath the foliage of her groves, or in the lovely spring to view the violet, the lily, or the rose. Thou fillest all seasons with divine respect; the woodland walk, the verdant meadows, the chanting choir, the social converse, and the moral man, receive their rich delights from thee !" Hallowed day! hush'd be the ploughboy's whistle, and the milkmaid's song."

Sterling, 1806,

C. H. K.

BEAUTIES OF THE DRAMA.

FROM THE SCHOOL OF REFORM.

Lord Avondale. COME hither-How is this, Robert? When I left England you were a youth, whose example was pointed out as an object of imitation your morals were pure, your industry exemplary-how is it then that I now see you an abandoned outcast?

Tyke. Ah, sur, it was all along we' you.

Lord A. Me! was not my bounty ample? Did I not give you independence?

Tyke. Ah, that was it-when you sent me that little child to take care on

Lord A. Hush!

Tyke. Well, well;-and that big lump of money! you see, as I had not worked for it, it made me quite fidgetty; I always had my hand in my pocket scrummelling it about like-so, as all Yorkshire lads like galloping horses, I bought one, and took't to races, up at our country side -and, ecod! I pulled stuff into my hat as clean aş nine-pence. Oh, ho! says I, I'll make short work o'this; I'll go to Newmarket, where the lords do bring their cattle and settle matters in a hurry. So I went and mighty pleased I was ; for the jockey lords called me Squire, you seeand clapping me on the back, in this manner, says, Squire, your horse will beat every thing! Lord A. Indeed!

Tyke. Yes, yes-that was pleasant enough; but, unluckily the jockey lords told me a damn ed heap o'lies; for ma horse always came in laglast. Then they told ma to hedge; but it was got the hedging I had been used to, and some

how I got intid ditch like. So what with that and playing cards at Lambs skinnings (for, bless you, I could not catch them at Snitchums) I

was

Lord A. Ruined.

Tyke. Yes; as jockey lords said-completely cleaned out.

Lord A. Did you not return to hon est labour? Tyke. Oh, no, I could not my hands had got soft and smooth, and I had a ring girt about my finger :-no, 1 could not tak to work

Lord A. Go on.

Tyke. Why, as I could stay there no longer, I thought it would not be a bad plan to go away so I went intid stable, and, would you believe it? the horse that beat mine sometimes, coax'd, and contrived to get me on his back like-and, ecod! galloped off wi'me a matter of a hundred miles. I thought no more about it myself—

Lord A. But they did.

Tyke. Yes, dom them, and were very cross indeed; for they put me intid castle, and tried me

at sizes.

Lord A. What could you say to avert your fate?

Tyke. Why, I told the judge-says I, my lord, I hope you'll excuse my not being used to this kind of takle exchange is no robbery-mistakes of this kind will happen-but I assure you, I've kept the best of company we' jockey lords, and such like as yourself. So they all smiled, as much as to say he's one of us like--and I thought all was right enough :---but the judge puts him on a black cap, and, without saying with your leave, or any thing, orders me to be hanged !--Lord A. Poor wretch !

Tyke. Don't you be frightened; they did not hang ma' mum-dont'e believe that ;-no, bless