of the fruit from the flower. He left the village for the metropolis, and was educated to the bar. He was admired and caressed by his acquaintance, became dissipated, ruined his father's fortune, and died the death of a prodigal at five and twenty."

"And his brother Tom, who overturned the bench upon which Jack Williams and his cousin were seated ?"

"He imitated the example set by father Adam; and by cultivating the earth, supported his aged parents. If more would do so, the world would be happier."

As we walked to the village he gave me a brief history of the whole of our school mates, and the picture presented a vast deal more of shade than sunshine. Life may be compared to a tree in full bearing. Of the multitude of blossoms, how many are nipped in the bud! Of the fruit, more than half falls in its green state, and of that which attains maturity, much goes to decay before it is gathered to use.

THE DELUGE.

BY FREDERIC S. ECKARD.

ONE last strong effort and he gain'd
A refuge on the steep,

The lingering rock which yet remain'd
Uplifted from the deep;

He had invoked despair,-she gave
A strength to stem the torrent wave
And whirlwind's iron sweep,
And now were won, that contest o'er,
A few dark hours of anguish more.

There was no hope! a frowning sky
Had veil'd the sun in gloom,
And fearful sounds were rushing by
Like wailings for the doom;
He look'd around-the waters lay
Wild and remorseless o'er their prey,

An universal tomb,

Yet from his glance they could not hide

The frightful secrets of their tide.

There was no hope! and now he stood
Upon that towering hill,
Erect and stern and unsubdued,
And calm midst utter ill.

So long had storm and madness been,
And vengeance ruled the tortured scene
To desolate and kill,

That with the lightning's lurid glow,

His thoughts flash'd wildly o'er his wo:

"Earth! earth! the doom may be withdrawn,

The raging wave subside,

And God's pure day once more may dawn
In brightness far and wide;

But yet, though surge and cloud disperse,
A consciousness of this strange curse,
By which thy children died,
Shall through all future ages be

Like a dim terror laid on thee!

"Fierce and unnatural in thy crime,
Darkly thy fate is cast;

Waning from nature's earlier prime,
Thy strength for aye has past;
Thousands of giant mind and form,
Struggling like angels with the storm,
Yet overwhelm'd at last;

And all we cherish'd swept away,

As things too worthless for the day."

The voice was hush'd-a sudden bound,

A foaming on the wave,

And the vex'd waters closed around

Their last unquiet grave;

The same Almighty power which bade Ruin and woe his works invade,

Relented now to save;

And slowly at the strong command
Appear'd the desolated land.

WHEN THOU ART NEAR.

BY ROBERT SWEENY.

WHEN thou art near

One smile of thine, one sunny ray

Can chase the griefs that linger here: Like morning mists they melt away

When thou art near.

When thou art near

The birds their softest notes resume,

The streamlet flows more purely clear; The flowers put forth their richest bloom When thou art near.

When thou art near

My lute-whose chords, if touch'd alone,

Breathe saddest music to mine ear

How grateful is its alter'd tone

When thou art near.