SONG.

To the Tune of "Gaily sounds the Castanet," in the

TELL us not of friends untrue,
Fragile as the morning dew-
Brilliant gems that cannot last,

Turn'd to ice by winter's frost.

We would rather trust, although at last deceiv
Promise true they ne'er have found, who all h

Find we still the friends we love,
Kindest when we need them mos
Like yon starry fields of light,
Brightest on a winter night.

Whate'er the ills we prove, oh! be they never
That they forsake us in our tears who lov'd us

LA FEUILLE.

De la tige détachée,

Pauvre feuille desséchée,

Où vas-tu? Je n'en sais rien;
L'orage a frappé le chêne

Qui seul étoit mon soutien.
De son inconstante haleine
Le Zephir et l'Aquilon,
Depuis ce jour, me promène
De la forêt à la plaine,
De la montagne au vallon.
Je vais où le vent me mène
Sans me plaindre ou m'effrayer;
Je vais où va toute chose,
Où va la feuille de rose

Et la feuille de laurier.

A HYMN IN SICKNESS.

THROUGH the long night of watchfulness and pain, Where shall the worn and wearied spirit rest? Who listens in the midnight's lonely hour

To the low heavings of the aching breast?

Still, silent, dark-in vain the ear would catch
A note of comfort whispered on the air-
Helpless, alone-the eye looks out in vain
For one to wipe the solitary tear.

'Tis then, O Lord, the spirit turns to thee, Its ever-present, ever-mindful FriendNearest, when all beside thee is afar,

And kindest where all other comforts end.

Then what delight to know that thou art there, Tending in love the lonely sufferer's bed— In words of peace, still felt though all unheard, Shedding soft balm upon the restless head.

Lulling the impatient spirit to repose
With holy confidence that all is good-
So gently chastening, even nature's self
Would not escape the lesson if she could.

Yes, gracious Lord! not all the flowers that deck
The bosom of the healthy and the gay-
Not all the mirth and carelessness that gild
The sunshine moments of life's golden day-

But'ill was this fair flower content

To blossom in the shade,

And droop'd with envy of the flower That deck'd the sunny glade.

"Why am I here, unseen, unknown Mid weeds and nettles plantedWhile still to bloom on sunny banks To other flowers is granted?

"Would I were yonder Cowslip bri
In open fields to bide-
Or e'en the pretty Pimpernel
That decks the path-way side."

'Twas so the Violet complained,
And mourn'd her lot obscure,
And look'd with envy all the day
On each surrounding flower.

But so it was at even-tide

That some one came that road, Pick'd the poor Cowslip from its ste And scatter'd it abroad.

And 'twas not long ere one in haste
With rude and careless bound,
Passed o'er the pretty Pimpernel
And crush'd it to the ground.

The Violet saw, and haply learn'd
Not her's the sadder lot,
Whom fortune destines to abide
Where others mark her not.

Distinction's path is hard beset
With danger and with wrong-
More blessed to whom obscurity
And gentle peace belong.

She is too bold who fondly sighs
To try the sunny glade-
Others beside the Violet

Are safest in the shade.

HYMN.

SINFUL child of Adam, whither
Would thy restless spirit go?
Wilt thou leave the fount of blessings,
Seek relief in aught below?

Is it that thy heart has wander'd,
Lur'd aside by earthly toys,
And thou find'st it hard to raise it
Now to seek for heavenly joys?

Foolish sinner, flee to Jesus,

Quickly make thy peace with him, Lest the tempter draw thee further, And ensnare thee into sin.

True it is, sin's deadly poison
Causes oft distressing fears,
And ere thou obtain the blessing.

Thou must sow in many tears.

Pierre and his family; or, a Story of By the Author of Lily Douglas. Pr Oliphant, Edinburgh.

WE notice this book as one intended of the very young, from the pen of an supplied them with many previous wor description." Piedmont, "Piedmont," observes the preface the place to which Christianity is said is a tract of country situated at the foot of the range of mountains which divides Italy from Fr and other countries. It consists of a number o embosomed in mountains, which are encircled b and display in its varied scenery, in most strikin fertility and beauty of Eden, with lakes of ice and with eternal snow. Many of the passes leading strongly fortified, not by art, but by nature, which her bulwarks of rocks and rivers, forests and pred pears, says Sir Thomas Morland, as if the all-wise the beginning, designed that place as a cabinet w inestimable jewel, or in which to reserve many t should not bow the knee to Baal."

We are somewhere erroneously told Waldenses was derived from Waldo, founder of the sect-but this was not the being but a corruption of the Valdense