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and Edinburgh every other [alternate] Monday morning, and to go to Burrowbridge on Saturday night; and to set out from thence on Monday morning, and get to London and Edinburgh on Saturday night. Passengers to pay as usual. Performed, if God permits, by your dutiful seruant, HOSEA EASTGATE.'

Within our own recollection, the mail-coach occupied fiftyfour hours in the journey between London and Edinburgh. Look how the thing is now managed! The mail-train takes seventeen hours, and the express performs the journey in twelve hours. A person may comfortably breakfast in London, and be seated at supper in Edinburgh; and in reality be less fatigued than if he had been packed up for three hours in a stage-coach.

Many will have a vivid recollection of the difficulties in the way of transit before river and channel steamers came into operation. Twenty-four hours were ordinarily consumed in the voyage from London Bridge to Margate by one of the famous Margate hoys—a pleasant run down the Thames by steamer now settling this important affair in less than a fore

Then, what an appalling enterprise in the olden time was the journey and voyage to Dublin—the long and dreary coaching from London to Liverpool, followed by the sea-pas.. sage in one of the sailing packets. An entire week was considered a fair length of time for the land and sea journey ; but sometimes the sea part of it alone occupied eight or ten days, for the weather occasionally drove the packet for shelter into ports on the Welsh or Irish coast. A mighty pleasant way this was of reaching Dublin, half a century ago !



Now observe the difference. By train and steamer, by way of Holyhead, the journey from London to Dublin may be done in fourteen hours! Practically, Dublin is now nearer London than Birmingham was thirty years ago.

Some very curious particulars could be given of the tediousness of goods-transit in past times by canals, wagons, and other conveyances. Robertson in his “Rural Recollections,' referring to a period between 1770 and 1780, drolly observes, 'that the common carrier from Selkirk to Edinburgh, thirtyeight miles distant, required two weeks to make out his journey between the two towns, going and returning, with a suitable resting time at each to his poor fatigued horse, which had perhaps not less than five or six hundredweight of goods to drag along. The road originally was among the most perilous in the whole country; a considerable extent of it lay in the bottom of that district called Gala Water, from the name of the principal stream. The channel of the water itself, when not flooded, was the track chosen, as being the most level and easiest to be travelled on. The rest of the way, very inuch up and down hill, was far worse. The townsmen of this adventurous individual, on the morning of his way-going, turned out to take leave of him, and to wish him a safe return from his perilous undertaking.' perform this perilous undertaking' by the train down the vale of the Gala iu an hour and a half !

These are all great improvements for the movement of our bodies. But how different our souls! Our thoughts can go up quicker than lightning to the throne of God, asking for pardon and mercy through Jesus Christ.

We now

WORSHIP OF IDOLS BY CHILDREN. HEATHEN children are taught by their parents to worship idols. “I was much affected,” says the Rev. Mr. French, a missionary among the Mahrattas, in India, “ by the following incident, which occured in the temple at Pimpulwandee. A little boy, about ten years of age, accompanied by two girls smaller than himself, his sisters probably, came to pay their devotions. The little boy in a state of almost entire nakedness, first washed the idol with water, and then put a little red paint on its forehead, shoulders, and breast. This done, he took from the little girl some small flowers, which he laid in various places on the idol; and, to crown all, he threw, after several ineffectual attempts, the idol being rather taller than himself, a string of flowers over its head. Having finished this part of the ceremony, the three pitiable little creatures commenced going round and bowing to the senseless object which they had thus early been taught to regard as their god. I was much affected, I say, in witnessing this scene, and was led to reflect how different are the circumstances and prospects of the dear children of my native land. There the infant mind is trained in the principles of virtue and salvation. Here it is initiated into the mysteries of iniquity, and swallowed up in the darkness and superstition of idolatry. But it is a blessed thought to be apprehended only by faith, however, that the children of India shall one day speak forth the praises of Immanuel. The Lord hasten that day in his own good time."

Pity heathen children, and send them teachers and bibles !



To the memory of two dear deceased Friends who died while Young.

The struggle is over, the conflict is done,
The battle is fought, and the victory won;
For death was despoiled of his vaunted sting,
When their spirits ascended on seraphim's wing;
Now freed from the dangers and sorrows of time,
They are praising their God in a happier clime.

The sound of their voice can no longer be heard-
No more can we hear the affectionate word-
No warning from danger their tongue can impart-
No smile from their lips can enliven the heart;
With doubts and with fears no longer opprest,
Their spirits are singing the songs of the blest.

Ye flow'rets of summer, oh! why will ye mourn ?
These two, who oft sheltered you, ne'er will return;
Though drest in the splendours of purple and gold,
Those eyes will no more your beauties behold;
In Paradise landed, and rescued from care,
They are plucking the roses and amaranths there.

No trials or dangers await them above,
They are drinking of joys from the fountain of love;
For death has unfolded the portals of bliss,
And freed them from sorrow and pain and distress.
They have pass'd through the valley of shade and of gloom,
And are singing triumphantly over the tomb.

May we who are mourning their absence below,
Prepare for the moment when we too must go-
When, sleeping in death, like the two whom we love,
May angels convey our glad spirits above;
And, welcom'd by Jesus, in bliss may we share
With them a delightful eternity there.


From a Village Churchyard.


His life was short, the sooner led to rest,
God takes them youngest whom he loveth best.


Thy little life was just begun,
Lov'd object of our tenderest care,
When Jesus call'd thee to his throne,
To blossom in a purer air.

SEE the bud so rudely torn,
Blooming in a land of rest;
See the lamb from sufferings borne,
Resting on the Shepherd's breast.

HERE rests in peace a much-beloved youth,
Of manners gentle and unerring truth;
Prompt to obey in wisdom's path he trod,
And early knew his Saviour and his God.
'Twas pale consumption gave the fatal blow,
And laid beneath our cherish'd hopes so low!
But bless'd be God the consolation's given,
We only part on earth to meet in heaven.


She is gone to the land where the care-worn and weary
Enjoy the sweet rapture of sacred repose;
She has quitted for ever this wilderness dreary,
And bid a long farewell to time and its woes.
While on earth she was loved and we deeply deplore her-
But ah! shall a murmur escape from our breast-
Do you ask how she liv'd? She set heaven before her.
Do you ask how she died? In the faith of the bless'd.

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