And infancy and age are seen

Slow winding o'er the church-yard green.
It is the eve of rest! the light

Still lingers on the moss-grown tow'r,
While to the drowsy ear of night

Slowly it marks the evening hour.
"Tis hush'd! and all is silent there,
Save the fervent voice of pray’r.
And now far down the quiet vale,
Sweet hymnings on the air float by;
Hushing the whip-poor-will's sad wail
With its own plaintive melody.

They breathe of peace, like the sweet strains
That swept at night o'er Bethlem's plains.
And heads are bowed, as the low hymn
Steals through that gray and time-worn pile,
And the altar lights burn faint and dim,
In the long and moss-grown aisle.
And the distant foot-fall echoes loud,
Above that hush'd and kneeling crowd.
And now beneath the old elm's shade,
Where the cold moon-beams may not smile,
Bright flow'rs upon the graves are laid,
And sad tears shed unseen the while.
The last sweet gift affection brings,
To deck the earth to which it clings.
How beautiful those simple flow'rs

Strewn o'er that silent spot still sleep;
Still wet with summer's gentle showers,
As if they too could feel and weep!
They fade and die! the wintry wind
Shall leave no trace of them behind!
The bright new moon hath set; the light
Is fading on the far blue hills;
And on the passing breeze of night

The music of their thousand rills
Comes echoing through the twilight gray,
With the lone watch-dog's distant bay.
The crowd hath pass'd away; the pray'r
And low-breath'd evening hymn are gore;
The cold mist only lingers there,

O'er the dark moss and mould'ring stone.
And the stars shine brightly o'er the glen,
Where rest the quiet homes of men.

Atlantic Souvenir.

12.-1829.-GLASGOW THEATRE BURnt.

While rehearsing Blue Beard, the performers discovered the house to be on fire, and in a few minutes the whole building was enveloped in flames, so that in about two hours it was one burning mass of ruins. No cause is assigned for the accident. The proprietors had insured the theatre for £5500; but the manager, whose loss was about £1500, was uninsured.

:—

Dr. Cleland, in his "Annals of Glasgow," thus describes the building :-" The theatre in Dunlopstreet having been found inconvenient, and too small for the accommodation of the public, a magnificent one has been erected on the west side of Queen-street, on the principle of transferable shares of £25 each, from designs by Mr. David Hamilton. This building is 158 feet long, and 70 feet wide, calculated to contain 1500 persons, or £250 per night, being of greater extent than any of the provincial theatres. The east front of the building is composed of an arcade basement, supporting six Ionic columns 30 feet high, with corresponding pilasters, entablatures, and appropriate devices. The centre, or principal vestibule, which leads to the boxes by a double flight of stairs, is separated from the corridors by a screen, interspersed with Corinthian columns, which gives the entrance a very impressive effect. The spectatory is of an elliptic form, displaying two tier of boxes, slips, and galleries; the proscenium is 30 feet wide, enriched with antique ornaments; and the stage balconies are done up in superior taste. The building and scenery cost upwards of £18,500.”

13.-ST. HILARY

Was born at Poictiers, where he became bishop, and defended the Catholic doctrine against the Arians, for which he was persecuted by their party,

and ultimately banished into Phrygia in the year 356. After undergoing many sufferings (according to Butler) he returned to Poictiers, resumed his episcopal power, worked many miracles, and died on the 13th of January 368: other authorities say that he died during his exile; the former, however, is the most accredited account.

13.-FEAST OF LANTERNS.

In China this is a celebrated festival, held from the 13th to the 16th of the first month; so called from the immense number of lanterns hung out of the houses and streets, which it is said are no less than two hundred millions. On this day are exposed lanterns of all prices, whereof some are said to cost 2000 crowns. Some of the grandees retrench somewhat every day out of the regular expences of their table, dress, equipage, &c. to appear the more magnificent in their lanterns. They are adorned with gilding, sculpture, painting, japanning, &c. and their size is extravagant, some being from 25 to 35 feet diameter, representing halls and chambers. Two or three such machines together would make handsome houses; so that in China they are able to eat, lodge, receive visits, hold balls and act plays in a lantern. To illuminate them, they light up in them an incredible number of torches or lamps, which at a distance have a beautiful effect. In these they exhibit various kinds of shows to divert the people. Besides these enormous lanterns, there is a multitude of smaller ones, each about four feet high and one and a half broad.-Platt's Book of Curiosities, p. 621.

15.-1829, THOMAS SANDERSON Died, ætat. 70.

This unfortunate man, the son of the Rev. Mr. Sanderson, of Sebergham, Cumberland, was born in 1758. Having received a classical education, he subsisted as a schoolmaster until the period of his

father's death, when, becoming possessed of a small property, and having an aversion to the bustle of the world, he retired to a humble dwelling on the romantic banks of the river Lyne. Here he pursued his studies, and being fond of literary pursuits, commenced author, by contributing various pieces in prose and poetry to the Cumberland Packet, then the only paper in Cumberland. On the establishment of the Carlisle Journal, he occasionally contributed to that, and in 1800, published a volume of "Original Poems"; some of which possess considerable merit. The following, from the volume, although not the best, presents a faithful picture of the author's peaceful and humble mind:

Heaven! while Ambition's sons aspire

To reach the heights of wealth and power,
O let me to the vale retire,

Where quiet twines her silent bower.
There let my humble heart receive,
The bliss that peaceful life affords ;
Another's pleasures let me give,
To gratulation's lively chords.
Or 'mid the shade of human days,
With kindred sadness let me roam;
Catch the long sigh misfortune pays,
And make Compassion's cell my home.
Hence in each tender feeling tried,
My lowly lot I'll prize the more;
And thoughtful o'er life's ocean glide,
Till silent rest the dashing oar!

His longest prose work is, An Essay on the manners and customs of the Cumberland Peasantry, prefixed to the last edition of Robert Anderson's Poems. He was nearly related to Brown, the African traveller; memoirs of whose life he had nearly completed. This and the arrangement of a quantity of pieces in prose and verse had long occupied his attention, and having sat up late on the night of the 14th of January, he is supposed to have left

F

some sticks burning in the grate, which fell out and ignited a pile of faggots laying in one corner of the cottage: these soon communicated to the building, and when the door was forced open, the unfortunate occupant was found laying on the floor almost surrounded by flames; a farmer with difficulty dragged him out, but as life seemed extinct, and the body dreadfully scorched, it was left on the green, and every exertion used to arrest the progress of the flames. On returning to the green, however, the body had disappeared, and on searching, Mr. Sanderson was found leaning against a tree, whither he had crawled on returning animation. His first exclamation was, "For God's sake let me have a bed to die on; I shall not be long in this world." He was then

taken to a farm house and put to bed, where he expired the next day. His manuscripts were very numerous, he anxiously enquired after their fate, and when told they had fallen a prey to the flames, he said, "Then all is lost." His manner evinced a deep concern for the fate of his literary fame.

Mr. Sanderson lived alone in a small cottage. His character was marked by many harmless eccentricities; but his talents, and mild and peaceful disposition, gained him the respect of all who knew him. He was passionately fond of rural scenery and no inducement could prevail upon him to quit the delightful scenes amongst which he luxuriated on the banks of the Lyne.

18.-ST. PRISCA,

A Roman lady, early converted to Christianity; which refusing to abjure, she was horribly tortured and beheaded in the time of the Emperor Claudius, in the year 275.

18.-1829.-SIR WILLIAM CURTIS DIED, Ætat. 77.

This well-known citizen was the son of a biscuit baker at Wapping, who supplied the greater part