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had been interrupted. Mr. Davy read, in Egypt, upon another occasion, some passages from these unrivalled Papers " to a blind Englishman, who was in such ecstasy with what he heard, that he exclaimed he was almost thankful he could not see he was in a foreign country; for that while he listened, he felt completely as though he were again in England.

NIGHT AND DAY.

BY

Night, sable goddess! from her ebon throne,
In rayless majesty, now stretches forth
Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumb'ring world;
Silence, how dead! and darkness, how profound!
Nor eye nor list'ning ear an object finds;
Creation sleeps. 'Tis as the general pulse
Of life stood still, and nature made a pause—
An awful pause prophetic of her end.

YOUNG.

Y a poetical metaphor, Night is said to be Nature in mourning for the loss of the sun! Yet in her seeming sadness, how grateful to the wearied sons of toil, is her stillness and repose!

"Night is the time for rest

How sweet when labors close,

To gather round an aching breast
The curtain of repose:

Stretch the tired limbs and lay the head
Upon our own delightful bed."

"The sweet oblivious antidote" to all our sorrows and trials, is also the great necessity of our nature, superseding every other want. Silent and solemn night, thou art also the almoner of blessings to the poor and afflicted, for not only dost thou bring a truce to toil

and labor, but thou dost still the cry for food of the neglected children of poverty. Night-gentle, soothing, refreshing night-the earthly paradise of slave, the soothing balm of the care-worn and suffering, the nurse of social endearments, of poetry and devotionhow the great panting heart of humanity yearns for thy sweet return! Under thy benign and peaceful reign, the tumultuous conflicts of life, with its strife of tongues, its pride and avarice, its baubles and phantoms, its envy and ambitions, alike cease. All life's fretting cares, its doubts and perplexities, and its countless contending emotions are for a season hushed into silence and repose. How beneficent this ordinance of the Divine Providence: alike grate to peasant and to prince, to the rude as well as to the.. fined: to the lower creation as well as to its lord.

"Oh, night! I love thee, as a weary child
Loves the maternal breast on which it leans!
Day hath its golden pomp-its bustling scenes;
But richer gifts are thine-the turmoil wild
Of a proud heart, thy low, sad voice hath stilled,
Until its throb is gentler than the swell
Of a light billow-and its chamber filled
With cloudless light, with calm unspeakable;

A strange, mysterious power belongs to thee,
To morning, noon, and twilight-time unknown." *

Not only is night ever welcome as affording a respite to the wearied activities of the day-thus fitting us, by its recuperative influences, for the duties of the morrow; it is also the time of social intercourse, when

* Hosmer.

the endearments of home, with its amenities and loving interests, atone for the rude asperities of the world. Here the rivalries of ambition and the fierce contests for power and preference are unknown-all is serenity, gentleness and peace-the storms of life are lulled into a calm. Home is the citadel of the heart-its loved retreat-and when sanctified by the pure harmonies of love and devotion, our "paradise regained."

"Dear night! This world's defeat;

The stop to busy fools-care's check and curb,
The day of spirits-and the soul's retreat,

Which none disturb." *

Night, especially, is the time for prayer-sanctified to this use by the Great Founder of our faith.

"This sacred shade and solitude, what is it?
'Tis the felt presence of the Deity.
Darkness has divinity for me;

It strikes thought inward; it drives back the soul,

To settle on herself, our point supreme!

There lies our theatre-there sits our judge.

Night is the good man's friend, and guardian too;

It no less rescues virtue, than inspires."

We read that the Patriarch of old went forth to meditate at eventide-and although his thoughts have not been chronicled, for our perusal, we may safely conjecture that they were of a devotional kind. Doubtless his emotions of gratitude were excited by a sense of the fitness and adaptation, not to say physical necessity to our very existence, which exists for this regular

* Vaughan.

alternation of day and night-since its interruption would most unquestionably prove fatal. What could we know of the countless beauties of creation did not the king of day reveal to us the enchanted vision? Then the "garish eye of day," with all its pomp and splendor, passes into eclipse, in order that the glories of the stellar firmament may ravish our gaze the more.

"Look, how the floor of heaven

Is thick inlaid with patins of bright gold!"

What silent eloquence is there in the splendors of the midnight heavens! Who can gaze upon them in the lone stillness without deep emotions of solemn awe?

"The sacred hour of night,

When eloquent darkness opens to the eye
The pure, the undying and the infinite;
The heaven of heavens unveiled, reveals on high
The star-roofed temple of eternity;

There, where in. floating argentry are hung

The living wilderness of galaxy,

O'er the black void like foam from ocean flung:

That solemn sea of air whose silence hath a tongue."*

There is something strangely beautiful in the contemplation of night-when the smiling stars seem to do homage to their pale-faced queen, and the clouds float silently through the tranquil sky, and the wind speaks in soft whispers, as if fearful of waking the sleepers." Such is the sweet repose of a peaceful conscience. But when the hues of evening slant dimly away,

* Reade.