distinguished men, and literary honours unexpectedly fell upon him.

"One day in the summer of 1802, at the age of twenty-nine, his ship lying wind-bound in Boston harbour, he went out to Cambridge to attend the exercises of Commencement Day; and whilst standing in one of the aisles of the church, as the President was announcing the honorary degrees conferred that day, his attention was aroused by hearing his own name called out as a Master of Arts. The announcement came upon him like a peal of thunder; it took him wholly by surprise. He has been heard to say that that was the proudest day of his life; and that of all the distinctions which he subsequently received from numerous learned and scientific bodies, at home and abroad, (among which may be mentioned his election, in 1818, as a Fellow of the Royal Society of London, an honour to which few Americans have attained,) there was not one which afforded him half the pleasure, or which he prized half so highly, as this degree from Harvard. It was indeed his first honour, his earliest distinction; it was not only kindly meant, but timely done; and it no doubt stimulated him to perseverance in his scientific pursuits, as well as created that interest which he always took in the prosperity of that institution."

But the chandler's shop-lad was not only earning honours, he had obtained wealth. His last voyage was made to Sumatra; and in the vessel of which he was part owner, he combined the functions of master and supercargo.

Nathanael Bowditch has earned the gratitude of all the world, and especially of his own country, by his work entitled "The Sailor's Own Book." This work originated in his correcting that of Moore on Navigation, which it superseded. Bowditch had discovered and corrected eight thousand errors in Moore's book. At twenty-eight he published the "New American Practical Navigator;" and that work is a monument to his memory. Every vessel that sails from the ports of the United States is navigated by it, and has been from nearly its publication, sixty years since it has never been superseded.

How fine is the spectacle of this illustrious young man, holding an inferior situation on board a merchant ship, using the ample portions of time in his long East Indian voyages, while his ship was lazily sweeping along beneath the steady impulse of the trade-winds, making calculations which were to be a law to thousands of vessels, and earnestly pursuing his studies, not only in mathematics, but in languages and general literature.

"His practice was, to rise at a very early hour in the morning, and pursue his studies till breakfast; immediately after which he took a rapid walk for an hour, and then went below to his studies till half-past eleven o'clock, when he returned and walked till twelve o'clock, the hour at which he commenced his meridian observations. Then came dinner, after which he was engaged in his studies till five o'clock; then he walked till tea-time, and, after tea, was at his studies till nine o'clock in the evening. From this hour till half-past ten o'clock, he appeared to have banished all thoughts of study, and, while walking, he would converse in the most lively manner, giving us useful information, intermixed with amusing anecdotes and hearty laughs, making the time delightful to the officers who walked with him, and who had to quicken their pace to accompany him. Whenever the heavenly bodies were in distance to get the longitude, night or day, he was sure to make his observations once, and frequently twice, in every twenty-four hours, always preferring to make them by the moon and stars, on account of his eyes. He was often seen on deck at other times, walking rapidly, and apparently in deep thought, when it was well understood, by all on board, that he was not to be disturbed, as we supposed he was solving some difficult problem; and when he darted below, the conclusion was, that he had got the idea if he were in the fore part of the ship, when the idea came to him, he would actually run to the cabin, and his countenance would give the expression, that he had found a prize."

At last he retired from the sea, after making five long voyages, and accepted an office involving nautical service on shore-the presidency of the Marine Assurance Company of Salem, in Massachusetts. This office he held from 1803 to 1823. He had repeated offers of more distinguished and prominent posts; the Professorship of Mathematics in the University of Harvard, the same Professorship in the University of Charlotteville, in Virginia, and the same Professorship in the United States Military Academy at West Point. But he

would not leave his native Salem for honour or emolument; he left it, however, at the age of fifty, at most earnest solicitation, as it was said he only was considered the proper person to take the important office of Actuary of the "Massachusetts Hospital Life Assurance Company." He broke away from his dear ties and early associations, and left his native place to form a new circle, and found a new home.

(To be continued.)

The Words of Jesus.

X.

"It is expedient for you that I go away."ST. JOHN XVI. 7.

T is expedient, Lord, that Thou art gone To yon pure heaven, where every grief is o'er ;

That Thou dost tread our sin-stained earth no more.

Henceforth our hearts can never be

alone.
Where'er we walk, the Comforter is near,
Showing us all Thy love and all Thy grace.
Judea's hills no longer hide Thy face.
Our weary feet no pilgrimage need fear:
Where'er we kneel we find the mercy-seat.
And if the words Thou spakest to Thine own
When here on earth were sweet, surely their tone
Is sweeter when we listen unto Thee

From yonder sinless heaven. Yea, death is sweet;
Tis but Thy voice that saith, "Where I am, ye
shall be."
A. H. PARRY.

Hymn to the Holy Spirit. (From the German of Tersteegen.)

O God, O Spirit, Light of Life,

In Death's grim shadows grandly shining: Darkness and Light have ever strife:

Thus we for Light in vain are pining.
O Spirit! from whom none can flee,
I let Thee all my sorrow see.

Lay bare my bosom, and destroy

What with Thy pure Light fiercely fighteth, And though Thou kill my cherished joy,

Swift comes a peace that more delighteth : And I, redeemed from Darkness dread, Find Light, that from the Cross is shed.

Feeble, we cannot war with sin;

Anoint Thou us,-we march victorious;
Not till we are renewed within

Can we be soldiers,-valiant, glorious :
O Spirit, be my spirit's shield,
Without Thy help I craven yield.

Thou breath of the Eternal Will,

Stream mighty through my deepest being,
My soul with mystic riches fill,

Through the unseen O teach me seeing:
Let faith, and love, and holy fear,
Exalt and strengthen, save and cheer.

In my resolves, and aims, and deeds,

May I Thy mandates childlike follow, And when my heart the keenest bleeds, May I abhor all pleasures hollow! In serving Thee, alone be bold; In serving sin, alone be cold.

Spirit, evolved from the abyss

Where wondrous, boundless Godhead slumbers,
Where far from lowly worlds like this

Are stars which no archangel numbers;
My thirsty lips draw near to drink,
Then in Thy Fount of Life I sink.

I give my breast-my all to Thee,
No longer for earth's phantoms fretting :
I wait, resigned, the last decree,
Sense, sorrow, self, and sin forgetting;
My soul to Thee ecstatic darts,
Thou Comforter of human hearts.

By the Shore.

The sun had set in glory; clouds of gold
Were fringed with wondrous purple; crimson bars
Reddened the foaming billows as they rolled,
Till from heaven's blue gleamed out the silent
stars.

Then passed the moon up to her queenly throne,
The waters flashed with gems and glittering ore;
All earth was hushed to stillness, save the moan
Of the monotonous waves along the shore.

I watched the strange clouds as they floated by,
Some dark and murky, with a threatening glare;
Some white and fleecy, mounting up the sky,

Like veiled angels on a shadowy stair.

And while I gazed I wondered what might be
The new, diviner Land for which we wait;
For earth itself, from stain of evil free,

Would gleam with glory from the Golden Gate.
But there no clouds shall gather, and no more
The ocean rage-emblem of deep unrest;
No storms shall sweep across that radiant shore,
No night shall shroud that City of the blest!
This earth is beautiful; o'er land and sea
The mighty shadow of God's thought is cast;
But brighter far the Home that is to be,-
O Christ! receive us to that Home at last!
REV. R. H. BAYNES, M.A.

Sleeping and Waking.

"Faith shuts the door at night, And Mercy opens it in the morning.”

The night draws on apace,
With silent tread,

And o'er her dusky face

A veil of stars is spread:

All nature rests secure, for nature's Lord Around His sleeping children holds His ward.

The busy hum of day

Is hushed to rest;

And on her silvery way

The moon lights up her crest:

Kneel, child of God, let faith thy stronghold be: Be this thy bolt and bar,-He keepeth thee.

RULES FOR DOMESTIC HAPPINESS.

I-Every day let your eye be fixed on God through the Lord Jesus Christ, that by the influence of His Holy Spirit you may receive your mercies as coming from Him, and that you may use them to His glory. (James i. 17.) II.-Always remember, if you are happy in each other, it is the favour and blessing of God that makes you so: if you are tried and disappointed, God does thereby invite you to seek your happiness more in Him. (Prov. x. 22. Rom. viii. 28.)

III. In every duty act from a regard to God, because it is His will and your duty. 66 Do all in the name of the Lord Jesus," and look to Him to bless you and your partner, and that you may abide in His love. (1 Cor. x. 31. Col. iii. 17.)

IV.-Never suffer your regard for each other's society to rob God of your heart, or of the time which you owe to God and your own soul. (Luke xiv. 26. Matt. vi. 33.)

V. Recollect often, that the state of marriage was designed to be an emblem of the love of Christ and His Church, a state of mutual guardianship for God, and a nursery for the Church and the skies. (Eph. v. 22-32.)

VI.-Remember that your solemn covenant with each other was made in the temple of the Lord, in the presence of His Church, and that the most high God was called upon as a witness. (Matt. xix. 6.)

VII. Be careful that custom and habit do not lessen your attentions to each other, or the pleasing satisfaction with which they were once both shown and received. (1 Peter i. 22.)

VIII. Whenever you perceive a languor in your affections, always make it a rule to suspect yourself. The object which once inspired regard, may, perhaps, be still the same, and the blame only attaches to you. (Heb. xii. 15.)

IX.-Be sure to avoid unkind and irritating language. Always conciliate. It is your interest and your duty. Recollect this very day what God has borne with in you.

X.-Study your partner's character and disposition. Many little nice adjustments are requisite for happiness. You must both accommodate, or you will be both unhappy. (Rom. xv. 1.)

"The kindest and the happiest pair
Will find occasion to forbear,
And something, every day they live,
To pity, and perhaps forgive."

XI.-Do not expect too much. You are not always the same, no more is your partner. Sensibility must be watched over, or it will soon become its own tormentor. (Eph. iv. 2-4.)

XII.-When you discover failings which you did not suspect, (and this you may be assured will be the case,) think on the opposite excellence, and make it your prayer that your regard may not be diminished. If you are heirs of the grace of life, your failings will shortly be over: you will hereafter both be perfect in the Divine image. Esteem and love each other now, as you certainly will then. Forbearance is the trial and grace of this life only. (Col. iii. 12, 13. 1 Pet. iv. 8.)

XIII. Time is short, the way of life is too short to fall out in, and the comfort of life too uncertain to be ensnared by. Pray for the wisdom of the serpent and the harmlessness of the dove. (1 Cor. vii. 29. Eph. v. 15, 16.)

XIV.-Forget not that one of you must die first-one of you must feel the pang and chasm of separation. A thousand little errors may then wound the survivor's heart. It is policy to anticipate it. Oh that when you meet again, the deceased may say in heaven, "I am, under God, indebted to you that I am here!" (1 Cor. vii. 16.)

XV.-Pray constantly. You need much prayer. Prayer will engage God on your behalf. His blessing only can make you happy in the midst of your mercies. His blessing can make even the bitterness of life wonderfully sweet. He can suspend all our joys. Blessed be His holy name! He can, and often does suspend all our sorrows. Never pass a day without praising Him for all that is past; glorify Him with your present mercies, and trust Him for all that is to come. (Phil. iv. 6-8. Prov. iii. 33. Joshua xxiv. 15.)—Rev. Basil Wood.

DINNER AS AN EDUCATOR.

P

You will find that a great deal of character is imparted and received at the table. Parents too often forget this; and therefore, instead of swallowing your food in sullen silence, instead

of brooding over your business, instead of severely talking about others, let the conversation at the table be genial, kind, social, and cheering. Do not bring disagreeable things to the table in your conversation any more than you would in your dishes. For this reason, too, the more good company you have at your table, the better for your children. Every conversation with company at your table is an educator of the family. Hence the intelligence and the refinement, and the appropriate behaviour of the family which is given to hospitality. Never feel that intelligent visitors can be anything but a blessing to you and yours. How few have fully gotten hold of the fact, that company and conversation at the table are no small part of education!-Dr. Todd.

CALIGRAPHY AND THE RISING GENERATION.

If any foolish lad, or still more silly teacher, should imagine that it is the sign of a vulgar and menial education to write a good hand, the sooner schoolboy and pedagogue disabuse themselves of this mistaken idea the better. The highest circles of English society cultivate penmanship with care and success. The Queen's handwriting is beautiful-flowing, elegant, and feminine. Prince Albert's biographer compares the Prince to Goethe, who "would take inordinate pains even in writing a short note, that it should be admirably written. He did not understand the merit of second-best, but everything that was to be done must be done perfectly." The Prince Consort took the greatest interest in the caligraphy of his children, and

few young people, we are assured, write more elegantly, and at the same time more distinctly, than the princes and princesses of England. Our highest statesmen have not thought it beneath them to cultivate a clear and distinct penmanship. Lord Palmerston's handwriting is free, firm, and, considering his great age, by no means obscure. Lord Derby writes a capital hand-at once elegant and legible-an aristocratic hand, if there be such a thing. Earl Russell's is a smaller and more feminine hand, yet clear as his expositions of constitutional law, and as incisive in its style as some of his despatches are biting, though rash, in matter. The Lord Chancellor writes a beautiful handfirm, solid, and legal-such a hand as should have drawn up the Bill of Rights. Sir Hugh Cairns' is smaller, and perhaps more eleganta gentlemanly and clear hand. Mr. Cobden's handwriting was round, bold, and commercial-the hand of one who began life as a junior clerk in days when good penmanship was, perhaps, the rule rather than the exception among schoolboys of any ambition. Mr. Bright's is a somewhat smaller hand, rapid and flowing, yet legible. Mr. Gladstone's is a hurried and impetuous hand-the writing of a man whose thoughts flow so thick and fast that they outstrip the pen. Yet he holds the quill in a firm grasp, and his letters are large and well-formed. Lord Stanley's writing is by no means elegant, yet it is as distinct as large print. The Duke of Newcastle's long, wellformed, and very distinct letters would, perhaps, have gained him the prize for caligraphy among modern statesmen.-London Review.