cast away our souls again to gratify you? Oh, God forbid ! Avoid Satan! avoid all temptations! Welcome now all those messengers of heaven that will bring us the glad tidings-the offers of Christ and his salvation. Let not one hour in the sand-glass run down till we have fled for refuge to the Saviour, and cast ourselves in faith upon his righteousness and atoning sacrifice. Let each hour, then, be spent in doing good-in heartfelt prayer -meditation,-in hearing God's word; but let not one be spent in sin. Thus would they prize and improve the time, because they know its worth by woful experience. Oh! it is so precious, that all the earth, if turned into gold, could not buy one minute of it." SAMBO; OR, SCENES ON THE LAKES. WHERE the gushing springs, the falling rains, and the rolling rivers run into the deep valleys, there must be formed lakes; and though their overflowing waters will hurry onward to their destination, the mighty deep, yet still the lakes remain some of these are limited, and others mighty and profound. And who is he that thus gathers the floods, and bars them in their rocky bounds? None but the high and holy One, who "looketh to the ends of the earth," who "covereth the heaven with clouds," who sendeth" abundance of rain," who poureth "floods upon the dry ground," who openeth "fountains in the midst of the valleys," and "weigheth the water by measure. Lakes are scattered through the lands from the east to the west, from the north to the south. Some that are small are traversed by the canoe of the Indian, or the skiff of the fisherman; others, that are vast, are navigated by the steam-boat, or ploughed by the prow of the sailingvessel. The largest lake in Europe is Ladoga, the largest in Asia is Baikal, the largest in Africa is Tchad, and the largest in South America is Titicaca; but the lake of lakes, in point of size, is that of Superior, in North America, the largest body of fresh water in the world. Stretching to a length of four hundred miles, with a circumference of much more than a thousand, this inland sea, abounding with fish, supplies the neighbouring Indians with a large part of their food. Five large islands adorn it, one of them a hundred miles long; a rocky shore surrounds it, and forty rivers empty their waters into its capacious bosom. This mighty flood feeds lake Huron, adds its voice to the thunder of Niagara, and increases the roar of the raging ocean. * were Sambo, the negro, an intelligent African, is attending his master on his travels. In his youth, he had roamed the sandy flats and burning deserts of Senegambia, and bathed in the waters of the Senegal; but the man- stealers abroad, the hut of his father was fired, and he and a sister were manacled as slaves. Sambo endured the sufferings of the middle passage, and arrived at Cuba; but his sister reached not the shore. Bitter were the bonds of servitude; but Sambo at last fell into the hands of a merciful master. He is now no longer a slave, but a light-hearted, well-instructed servant. The yoke of bondage is removed from his neck, the chains of slavery have fallen from his limbs, and he moves and lives and breathes a free man, among those who are free. Sambo is servant to one who undervalues him not for the colour of his skin, for he knows that God has "made of one blood all nations of men, for to dwell on all the face of the earth," that soon all will lie down in the dust, and that in an eternal world the servant will be equal with his master. Sambo is in England, the land of liberty. Fair is the lake of Ulleswater, and perhaps yet fairer that of Derwentwater; but the queen of English lakes is Windermere. Its form is graceful, its clustered isles are beautiful; and what can be more attractive than its wooded and cottaged banks! The sun is shining on the lake, and the crystal waters are flinging back his beams. How picturesque are the mountains around! There are Loughrigg Fell, Rydal Head, Steel Fell, and the top of Skiddaw, and yonder are Crincle Crags, Bowfell, Lingmoor, Great Gable, and Scawfell Pike. Sambo, in a boat with his master, is gazing round him. No such crystal flood and verdant banks in Senegambia ! No such peaceful scenes and cheerfulcottages in Cuba! They are now at the Ferry, where once a boat was swamped, containing a bridal party, when fifty persons were drowned: No strong and mighty arm was stretched to save, And bride and bridegroom found a watery grave. Scotland is a land of lochs, of glens, of mist, of moor, and of mountains; and in that land of sterile beauty and wild magnificence is Sambo, the negro. He has sailed to the Hebrides, climbed Ben Nevis, wandered through gloomy Glencoe, and is now on the Loch of Lomond. Few servants have more enjoyment than Sambo, for to roam and to ramble is his delight. Many are the lochs of Scotland, but there is but one Loch Lomond. Loch Linnhe and Loch Ness are larger, Loch Ericht is more lonely, Loch Awe is more sublime, and Lochs Tay, Leven, and Katrine may, in some respects, be more beautiful; but take it for all in all, in size, beauty, variety, and sublimity, Loch Lomond is supreme. As Ben Cru achan guards Loch Awe, so Ben Lomond stands sentinel over the loch that bears Sambo is on board the steamboat, and is listening to a tale that is being told him of Rob Roy; for the cave of the freebooter is near. On goes the steamer to mighty Ben Lomond, and the islands Inch Cailliach and Murrin; but a gusty storm has suddenly swept over the lake, and Sambo and his fellow-passengers are hurrying to the cabins below. Yonder is Balloch Castle, and here is the south-end of Loch Lomond. his name. Sambo is in Switzerland, and on the lake Thun. Descending from the FinsterAar-Horn, the river Aar rolls along the foot of the glaciers, collecting all their waters, distributing them among the lakes of Thun and Brientz, and then flows onward to the Rhine. Where is there a more Alpine scenery than in the Canton of Berne? And where is there a sweeter lake than that of Thun? If smiling valleys, and cultivated hills, and towering, mighty mountains, terminating in icy pinnacles, and rising above the clouds, can render a lake beautiful, then is the lake of Thun entitled to admiration. More than seventeen hundred feet above the level of the sea lies the liquid expanse, surrounded by the giant mountains. Here rises Mount Riesen, there the peaks of the Moine, and yonder those of the Righi and the Jungfrau. This scene is enough to excite high-wrought visions of romantic beauty. It is questionable whether the lake, the trees, the mountains, or the skies are the most enchanting, and And this is the far-famed Lake of Geneva. There are who say that the lake is unrivalled. Mountains, glaciers, rivers, woods, and waterfalls seem to do their best to make it so. Thun is beautiful, but Thun is not Geneva. The latter lake lies between Switzerland and Savoy, in a valley which separates the Alps from the Jura ridge, and its romantic loveliness excites the most bewildering astonishment and pleasure. Its crescent form is highly attractive; its size, fifty miles in length and twelve in breadth, renders it magnificent, and its changing scenery adorns it with variety. Many are the interesting objects on its extended shores from Lausanne to the Castle of Chillon. Sambo has unexpectedly met, on the border of the lake, with a brother African; one who, like himself, has borne the iron yoke of slavery, and breathed the breath of liberty. The bitterness of oppression has been endured, the delight of freedom has been enjoyed, and they are recounting their past trials, and their present pleasures. What a picture to the eye and to the heart,-the road to the Simplon, the Lake of Geneva, sunshine, and two emancipated slaves! The lovely land of Italy is smiling round, and Sambo is smiling too; for his servitude is easy, his heart is light, and his disposition cheerful. Lago Maggiore, the largest of the three lakes of Lombardy, has many enthusiastic admirers, who style it the fairest of lakes : "A mirror and a bath for Beauty's youngest Hardly can language convey to a stranger a right conception of this "ocean of brightly-gleaming waters," covered with boats, unruffled by the wind, and reflecting, with the truthfulness of a mirror, a series of the most varied and romantic scenes. At its widest part are grouped the Borromean Islands: the Isola Bella is, by far, the most beautiful among them. Its groves are lovely, its gardens fair, and its palace magnificent. Sambo is in a felucca with his master, and the six rowers are urging the boat rapidly, yet gracefully, through the yielding waters. | he is dragged to land, in spite of his The margin of the lake is fringed with villages, snow-white houses, churches, and all the rich foliage of vineyards, orchards, and forest-trees. The boat is at its utmost speed. Quick, Sambo! quick! thy master has fallen from the prow, and is now struggling for his life. Sambo has leaped from the felucca; he swims like a water-fowl; he buoys up his master, and now the returning boat is taking them both on board. Happy Sambo! Fierce is the sunbeam in India, and venomous are the myriads of mosquitoes that abound; but Sambo little recks the one or the other. He is now in the sultry clime, where the tiger roams the forest, the boa hides in the jungle, and the alligator flounders in the lagoon, or basks on the banks of the river. Hardly is there in nature a more hideous reptile than the alligator: the Nile of Africa, the Orinoko of America, and the Ganges of India absolutely swarm with these reptiles. The lazy running stream, the swampy ground, and the extended lake are alike tenanted by the wide-mouthed scaly tribe. Sambo loves to rove among the lakes, unlovely as they may be, compared with those of other lands. India abounds with life, for the influential sun calls from the teeming earth and productive waters innumerable insects. The finny tribes are, also, inexhaustible, and uncouth lizards, and creatures of monstrous shapes stretch their lazy length in the marshy fens and watery swamps. Sambo is at the shallow end of a weedy lagoon, watching the alligators. Lurking in the morass, or the sedgy margin of the muddy lake, the alligator seizes his prey, and hurries with it to the deeper water, for there his enormous strength and voracity can be more fully put forth. In vain his struggling victim, be it man or tiger, grapples with him in the watery flood; his scaly body, his powerful tail, his terrific jaws, and his ability of keeping long beneath the surface, impart to him a power that can hardly be resisted. Sambo is out with a few fishermen, who are pursuing an alligator. The wide-mouthed monster has betaken himself to the weedy waters; but the air-bubbles betray his place of retreat. A barbed harpoon is struck into his back, through his scaly armour, and violent struggles. How he flounders about! how he snaps together his horrid jaws! Have a care, Sambo, that they prove not to thee the portals of the grave! Here they come, a motley band, to lake. Europeans, Asiatics, and Africans; chase and to destroy the reptiles of the Sepoys and Lascars; Hindoos and Mohammedans, armed with spears, and pikes, and daggers. They dash into the thick black water and the oozy slime of the canal, or narrow end of the lagoon, forming a line of pikemen, two deep, and a similar line higher up. The two lines approach each other, shouting, sticking their pikes in the mud, and driving the hideous reptiles before them. Confounded by the clamour, and scared by the number of their enemies, the alligators are splashing, sliding over one another, trying to escape by leaving the water, and crawling, with their flabby feet, up the slippery banks. Spears, pikes, and daggers are at work; and cut and slashed and pierced, the discomfited alligators fall easy victims to their relentless foes. Sambo has had a narrow escape,-for a seemingly exhausted alligator had already extended his ravenous jaws for his destruction, when an interposing pike preserved him. Sambo, thou savedst thy master's life, and he has now preserved thine. Senegambian Sambo, the iron manato wreaths of roses! Thou hast much of cles of thy former bondage have turned liberty, a light service, and a kind hearted master. Thou hast roamed in many lands; England and Scotland, Switzerland, Italy, and India have spread their goodly prospects before thee, and many are the lake scenes thou hast enjoyed. Look up in thy joy to Him who hath broken thy bondage, and let thy song of thanksgiving be, "Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, be unto Him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever and ever,' Rev. v. 13. THE FURNACE OF THE SOUL. ADVERSITY is the furnace of the soul, wherein it is tried, cleansed, and refined from the dross of vain conceits, of perverse humours, of vicious tempers.Barrow. GLIMPSES OF NORWEGIAN SCENERY. WHILE France, Italy, Germany, and the leading countries of Europe annually receive their shoals of visitors, Norway, although by no means deficient in materials of interesting observation, remains, in a great degree, an unexplored land to the British tourist. Its cragged hills, its sterile shores, its retired lakes, its fields and fiords, its dark forests of fir and pine, are more inviting when seen in the landscape of the artist, than when they have to be approached by long and toilsome , journeys, amid the dangers of a rugged route and ungenial climate. The traveller who would see to the best advantage the beauties of this land, must be of robust frame and simple habits; he must expect no assistance from the rapid railway train, little even from the coach; and instead of comfortable hotels and luxuAUGUST, 1850. rious bills of fare, he must be content often with the hard couch and the homely loaf of the peasant. An English tourist (Mr. Forester) has recently given to the world a sketch of his rambles amidst the choicest portions of Norwegian scenery, in a pleasantly written volume, entitled, Norway in 1848-1849." In these lively pages, the reader, seated at the fireside, can follow the author, now penetrating some dark pine forest, or climbing some slippery glacier; now listening to the roar of some mountain cataract, or sharing, when fatigued by the day's excursion, the hospitality cheerfully afforded by some warm-hearted farmer, or unsophisticated village pastor. After tossing for a few days on the North Sea, our tourist found himself safely landed at the port of Arendal, in Norway. The Custom-house officers, touching their hats, declined to inspect Ꮓ his passport. At this stage, and, indeed, | at every succeeding point of his journey, the name of Englishman proved an unvarying source of respect. The appearance of Arendal was very picturesque: shipping crowded its harbour, which was enlivened by numbers of boats passing to and fro, many of them rowed by women. The traveller was conducted to the inn, where the landlord received him, attired in a species of military costume, and ushered him into a large apartment filled with beautiful plants. After satisfying his curiosity by an examination of the more remarkable objects of the place, he proceeded to make preparations for his passage through the interior of the country. These were soon completed; concentrated soup, tea, chocolate, rice, and biscuits forming the staple portion of his provisions. All having been at last arranged, he set out upon his interesting excursion. Instead of accompanying him, however, through the various stages of his journey, we must content ourselves by catching some broken glimpses of the more remarkable features of Norwegian scenery which met his view. Nature, in her wildest and sublimest moods, is encountered in Norway. Often, too, it happens that some of the most interesting spots are in solitudes, almost unvisited by man. One of the lakes of the country, the Miös Vand, possesses this picturesque loneliness in a high degree. "It is," says the late Mr. Inglis, "the ideal of seclusion and repose. No house upon its banks, no boat upon its bosom, no flocks straying upon its slopes, no voice of herdsmen, no tinkling sound of bells; nothing but the small ripple, the occasional plunge of a fish, the cry of some bird of prey. The lake sleeps in the bosom of the hills, calmly mirroring their woods and pinnacles, and even the little wandering cloud that is imaged on its depths seems to have paused above it." As might be expected also, in a country of so mountainous a character, the waterfalls are of an imposing height and grandeur. To view them is often a task of no ordinary peril. The traveller must seek his path over slippery rocks, holding on by stunted shrubs or projecting masses of crumbling stone; a precipice, perhaps, rearing itself aloft, while a thousand feet beneath the water takes its convulsive leap, shaking the air with its vibration, and requiring a steady brain and a firm foot, to prevent the hazardous excursionist from losing his presence of mind and his equilibrium, at a moment when the absence of either would endanger life. "The solid ground beneath our feet," says one who made the attempt, "seemed to shake with the concussion, and my whirling brain was confused by the astounding roar. Approaching the edge of the cliff, I lay on my breast, and again looked down that fearful chasm (a depth of 900 feet), watching steadily the rush of the mighty waters, and dropping stones, to assure myself of the great depth of the fall. It was, perhaps, well that the guide, alarmed at my neglect of his cries and entreaties, rushed down and drew me away from the edge of the cliff." A - the The glacier, the glory of the Swiss mountains, is also not unknown in Norway. Springing aloft in the highly rarefied atmosphere, it presents an object of the most picturesque beauty, but at the same time of perilous adventure. companion of Forester has recorded his attempts to ascend one, when alone, and towards evening. Climbing a height of nearly 4,000 feet, he paused to contemplate the surrounding scenery, valley beneath expanded to the eye, the objects reduced to liliputian dimensions; the tinkling of the cattle bells, however, and the hum of voices rising from below, with a distinctness which made the sense of solitude more striking and impressive. On gaining one of the heights of the glacier, the traveller found that what he had looked forward to as a place for repose was an accumulation of loose snow, which threatened every moment to be dislodged, and to sweep him, like an insect, from its downward course. Carefully retracing his steps, he placed himself backwards, his hands on the ground and his heels on the ice, and in a few seconds descended, with something like the speed of a railway train, the path it had taken him so long to climb. It was happy for the enterprising but rash adventurer that no obstacle in his downward course met him, or it might have caused him to diverge into some of the large crevasses or hollows, with which such glaciers abound, and given a fatal termination to his exploit. In some of the highlands of Norway are found herds of the reindeer, an animal fitted by a wise arrangement of Providence, for the service of man in those desolate regions. Herds of them, apparently half domesticated, are kept by farmers; but are allowed, without any |