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when we learn that EARTHLY CARE is indeed a HEAVENLY DISCIPLINE,—we may sit down in quiet and say, “ It is the Lord, let him speak, and let his servants obey."
ASPIRATIONS. · A youth, with flashing eye and haughty mien, gazed upon the battle scene. He listened not to the groans of the dying, but, catching the sound of victory, he held his sword above his head, and said “May mine be a career of military glory-may my name be inscribed on history's page, among those who have conquered; and with no‘shroud' or 'useless coffin,' but with 'a martial cloak' around me, may I at last lie down in the soldier's grave !"
“The glory of the warrior shines dimly when compared with the statesman's,” said a young aspirant. “Let me be versed in the affairs of state-let me revel in the halls of nations, and be my voice heard when lords shall listen."
A student, with pale brow and sunken cheek, raised his eye, glowing with ambition's fire, and said, “Though the hill of science is steep and ragged, and thorns and briers are in the way-though pain and weariness he shall find who ascends it, yet I can endure the toil with ease, yea, with pleasure, so I but stand at last in the Temple of Fame.”
A maiden, with flushed cheek and sparkling eye, stood before her mirror, and murmured—“They call me beautiful; but I scorn the beauty that lieth only in the features. Let me excel in intellectual power-let me be among those who have investigated the fields of thought-let my eye speak a soul pure and noble, and let me be to all a model of true greatness.”
A humble cottager, attired in simple white, raised her eyes to heaven, and whispered
"Father, whate'er of earthly good
Thy sovereign will denies,
Let this petition rise:
Give me a calm, a thankful heart,
From every murmur free;
And make me live to Thee."
Years had passed. The youth who asked for warlike honours had lived threeseore years and ten. Fame had blown for him her martial trump; and echo, catching the sound, bore it with swiftest wing through the whole earth. But now his form was bent beneath the weight of years age had snowed his locks with the almond tree's bloom ; and weary of life, he laid him down to die. “In early life," he said, “I asked to have my name inscribed on the page of history, and thought, could it be granted, that I should die in peace. Oh, had I asked to see my name written in the book of life, then should I have rested in peace when the days of my pilgrimage had passed away.”
Youth had long faded from the brow of him who sought to be a statesman. Consumption's fire burned on his cheek, and he was fast passing away, as he said :-"In life's gay morn, when hope was bright, I asked to sit in the hall of state, and speak when learned men listened. Often hare those halls echoed my voice, and my willing ear has caught the whispered praise. But it avails naught now. Oh! had I asked to learn the laws of Him who governs all, and at His feet to be taught the way of life, I now should enter that unknown abode with joy."
The pale-browed student raised his hand, palsied by age, and said :-" Through patient toil I reached the temple on the hill. 'Twas well to ask this boon; but far better, had I asked also, that, while ascending science's rugged hill, I might not forget Mount Zion; for then at last might I have reached that temple not made with hands."
Time, too, had breathed on the beautiful maiden. The roseate hue had fled from her cheek, and her eye, now dim and lustreless, was closed in death. "I have been," she said, “ in the field of strife when the contest was mind with mind, and have borne the palm of victory. I asked for this; but had I sought also the power that cometh from above, I might have borne a palm of greater worth, and word upon my head a crown of glory bright."
Fast gathered the dew of death on the brow of the cottager, and the light of life burned dimly, as she said:“Father, in early youth I asked that thy grace might guide me over the changing sea of life. Though dark hare been the clouds, and thick the tempest, yet thou hast safely piloted my bark over its raging waves ; and now I thank thee, that after so long a storm, thou bringest me gently into port.”
BUONAPARTE'S WOUNDS. "Napoleon showed me the marks of two wounds-ones very deep cicatrice above the left knee, which, he said, he had received in his first campaign in Italy, and it was of so serious a nature, that the surgeons were in doubt whether it might not be ultimately necessary to amputate. He observed, that when he was wounded, it was always kept a secret, in order not to discourage the soldiers. The other was on the toe, and had been received at Eckmuhl. At the siege of Acre,' continued he, 'a shell, thrown by Sidney Smith, fell at my feet. Two soldiers who were close by, seized and closely embraced me, one in front, and the other on one side, and made a rampart of their bodies for me against the effect of the shell, which exploded and overwhelmed us with sand. We sank into the hole formed by its bursting: one of them was wounded. I made them both officers. One has since lost a leg at Moscow, and commanded at Vincennes when I left Paris. When he was summoned by the Russians, he replied, that as soon as they sent him back the leg that he lost at Moscow, he would surrender the fortress. Many times in my life, continues he, have I been saved by soldiers and officers throwing themselves before me when I was in imminent danger. At Arcola, when I was advancing, Colonel Meuran, my aidede-camp, threw himself before me, covered me with his body and received the wound which was destined for me. He
fell at my feet, the blood spirted up in my face. He gare || his life to preserve mine. Never yet, I believe, has there -----
been such derotion shown by soldiers as mine have manifested for me. In all my misfortunes, never has the soldier, when expiring, been wanting to me,-never has man been served more faithfully by his troops. With the last drop of blood gushing out of their veins, they exclaimed, Vive l'Empereur !'"_“ A Voice from St. Helena." “IF NO ONE WILL PRAY WITH ME, THEN I WILL PRAY
ALONE.” In the village of Bergheim, in Germany, lived a peasant named Jacob, with his wife and one little boy. This child had the blessing of a pious grandfather, who, from his very earliest years, had made him an object of earnest prayer. When he was brought as an infant to church to be baptized, his grandfather chose for him the name of John, saying, “ May he be beloved of God in time, and throughout eternity.” Although this good old man lived six miles from Bergheim, he often visited the little boy ; and often would he lay his hand upon his head, and say, “The Lord bless thee, my child ; the Lord bless thee, and keep thee as the apple of His eye." And, as we shall presently see, his prayers were not left unanswered by that tender Saviour who has said, “ Suffer the little children to come unto
On the day on which his grandfather celebrated his sixtieth birthday, Jacob and Anna drove over, with their little boy, to see him ; and John was delighted at the idea of spending the whole day with his grandfather. Jacob could not stay long, but returned home, promising to come again in the evening. However, when evening came, just as he was harnessing the white horse, a terrible peal of thunder was heard, and such a storm came on that he decided it would be better to leave his wife and child to spend the night at their grandfather's. Accordingly Anna had to stay, though she would have preferred going home, for she always felt ill at ease in the good grandfather's presence. Little John, on the contrary, was so delighted, he would not leave the side of the old man.
When evening came, the whole household were assembled
together. John's grandfather opened the large Bible, read a portion of it aloud, and then offered up an earnest and childlike prayer, out of the fulness of his heart, alluding with particular emotion to his birthday. Every one then retired to rest, after a kind “ Good-night.” The following! morning Anna set off, to walk back with her child. It was a lovely summer's day, and the walk, in the cool of the morning, through the birch woods and past several little waterfalls, was most inviting. John was very fond of flowers, and seldom passed them by ; to-day, however, he walked through the gaily-coloured meadows, behind his mother, as seriously and quietly as though not a single flower were to be seen. Neither did Anna feel much inclined to talk : her mind was uneasy, she did not know why. All on a sudden the child stood still, looked up in her face inquiringly, and said, “ Mother, why does not father do as grandfather does ?” His mother was somewhat confused : “Go and look for flowers," she said, and continued to walk on.
So they went on silently; but the child did not care about the flowers. Presently they came to the top of a hill, from which was a beautiful view of the distant mountains. ! Anna eat down to rest for a little while, and John beside her. “Mother," he then began again, for the second time, “why does not father do as grandfather does ?” Anna felt impatient. “ Well,” she answered, rather sharply, “and what does grandfather do?” “ He takes the great Bible,” said John, “and he reads and prays." His mother coloured. “ You must ask your father about it," said she.
When they reached home, Jacob was not there. He was gone out to reap in a field some way off, and would not be back till evening. This the mother knew, and she thought she would persuade the child to go to bed early, hoping that by the morning he would have forgotten his question. But she was mistaken. As she was going to undress bim, he began,-"No, mother; just let me wait till father comes home.” So, at eight o'clock, his father returned. John ran up to him directly, and asked quickly, “Father, why don't you do as grandfather does ?" His