youth, like a sweet flower just bursting into maturity, and casting around its balmy fragrance; the cold blast has nipped it-it withers and it dies. It was but shortly since, in the height of spirits, and in the full enjoyment of health, she had promised herself a long succession of years and happiness; but a ruthless disorder seizing her tender frame soon hurried the lovely fabric to dissolution. There was no appeal from the decree Here she lies-and a stone marks the spot, and by the affecting recital it bears often attracts the notice of the passing stranger..

From such providences as this should we not learn wisdom, and, viewing the frailty and uncertainty of life, improve its fleeting moments? Like a tender herb, it springs up, and for a while blooms in the sunshine, but before eve it is cut down and withereth away. On this side the grave all is unsubstantial, and perishes in the using. We cannot call a moment our own, While we are yet speaking it flies from our grasp, and eludes our hold. How truly wise is he, therefore, who seeks that inheritance which defies the wrecks of time, and rises brighter and brighter, in proportion as the attractions of this world fade and decay. How important is it to seize the opportunities which offer, ere they fly from us for ever! Even now, the sullen toll of the clock from the adjacent steeple announces the lapse of another hour. It has fled, and mingles undistinguished with the myriads that have gone before it, as the stream rolling down from the mountain mingles with the waters of the ocean. It cannot be recalled. We cannot stop the wheels of time, but the present we may improve. The future, hid under an impenetrable veil, defies the most prying eye, and is alone open to the sight of Omniscience.

The undisturbed silence which reigns around, alone interrupted by the tolling bell, and the thoughts which arise in the mind, the awful thought of being surrounded by so many of my fellow mortals, who have passed the last change, join to appal my feelings. I involuntarily shudder when I remember the short lapse of time which has passed since many of these bodies, now immured in dust, now sunk in the grave, felt all the activity which I now feel; their senses and percep

tions awake to every impression, and every faculty in lively exercise. Strange and unaccountable appears the alteration! Can they no longer participate in any feeling? Have both joy and sorrow left them for ever? Is no faculty employed? Has the tongue entirely forgotten its cunning? and have the busy labours of the hands ceased for ever? Yes; the body has sunk as useless lumber into its kindred dust, for the purpose of its existence has been answered. It served as the casket to hold that inestimable jewel, the soul; that spark of immortality. But the celestial inhabitant has now taken its flight, and soared to its native region; the fleshly tabernacle is therefore pulled down. The slumber of death has covered it. But though it lies thus silent with the dust, and mingles with its native corruption; though its parts be scattered, though the fabric be entirely decomposed, and apparently annihilated, yet it shall be again rebuilt. Its slumber shall not last for eternity. When the first blast of the last trumpet shall sound, and re-echo_through the realms of death and the grave; then shall the commissioned archangel summon all flesh to appear before the tribunal of Jehovah. "These mortals shall be then clothed with immortality, and this corruptible shall put on incorruptibility." Then shall the inhabitants of the dust come forth, all imperfection left in the ground, and all the grosser materials purged away, to receive the final sentence of the Judge of all the earth, for the deeds done in the body. Then shall the just shine as the light, and arrayed in beauty, and clothed in effulgent splendour, the kindred spirit shall again be joined to the body, never more to undergo a separation; but to bloom in the paradise of God for

ever.

Yet, notwithstanding the bright and dazzling prospect which extends beyond the grave, there is still an impenetrable gloom hangs over the chambers of death, to our mortal eyes, which neither the light of nature or reason can remove. The soul stands shrinking at the edge of the gulph which hurries her into an unknown state of existence. She shrinks back on herself, and trembles. She cannot stay, yet dares not to plunge into eternity: like the mariner on an unknown, sea,

she pursues her way in uncertainty and doubt. But revelation unfolds to us those secrets, and holds up to our view, in the volume of inspiration, that knowledge which alone is calculated to gild with brightness the confines of death, and enable the soul to look with delight into the land of immortality, which extends beyond it. With this chart, then, placing implicit faith In its directions, abiding by its precepts, with an humble yet hearty reliance on the infinite merits of our Blessed Redeemer, for pardon and salvation, and fixing the eye of faith on him, the soul may venture safely into the dark valley of death, and in the face of the king of terrors triumphantly exclaim, when flesh and heart fail," O Death where is thy sting! O Grave where is thy victory! P. N.*

FOR THE POCKET MAGAZINE.

THE LIFE OF TACITUS, THE HISTORIAN. CAIUS CORNELIUS TACITUS, a celebrated Latin historian, flourished in the first century, and was born in the reign of Nero. We know little of his ancestors, and what we do know is not so properly authenticated, as to leave it without doubt. We however know that his father was a Roman knight, and served with honour in the office of Governor over Belgic Gaul.-Pliny's Nat. Hist. L. vii. Ch. 16.

Vespasian, who wished to patronize merit, beheld the rising genius of Tacitus with delight, and appointed him at an early age to places of confidence and. honour. He was first entrusted with the province of his father, by this emperor, who, it is also said, gave him the care of his revenues. Under the emperor Ti tus he obtained a more honourable post, but under Nerva, he was made consul. In this office he gave proofs of his eloquence, while pleading the cause of the injured and oppressed Africans, against the pro consul Marius Africanus. But all the honours and dignities conferred upon him afforded very little glories, compared with what he received by his writings: The orator" might have been forgotten, if the histo

rian had not flourished." His treatise on the manners of the Germans, has always been admired by the greatest men. It is executed with fidelity and exactness, though some have declared "he delineated manners and customs, with which he was unacquainted." His life of Agricola, whose daughter he married, is one of the finest pieces of biography ever published. The purity and elegance of the composition are surpassing; and it is celebrated for the excellent instructions it contains. His history of the Roman emperors is defective. Nothing remains, but the 69, and part of the 70 year, Anno Dom. His annals are the most extensive and complete of his works. We have perfect reigns of Tiberius, Caius Claudius, and Nero; but the admirers of this excellent historian will forever lament the loss of those of Caius, and the beginning of Claudius. Mr. Bayle says "that the Annals of Tacitus are one of the greatest productions of the human mind; whither we consider the singularity of the style, or attend to the beauties, to the thoughts, and to that happy pencil, with which he knew how to paint the disguises and arts of politicians, and the weakest of the passions." The history of the reign of Tiberius is his master-piece." The deep policy, the dissimulation, and various intrigues of this celebrated prince, are drawn with all the fidelity of the historian." An intimate connection subsisted between Pliny and Tacitus, which many have admired. The familiarity and friendship of these two excellent men arose from similar principles, and a perfect conformity of manners and opinions. Their friendship became proverbial, as the following fact will demonstrate: At the exhibition of the spectacles in the circus, Tacitus held a long conversation with a Roman knight on various subjects, with whom he was unacquainted; and when the knight asked him whither he was a native of Italy, the historian answered, "he was not unknown to him, and that for their distant acquaintance he was indebted to literature."" Then you are," replied the knight, " either Tacitus or Pliny.'

It cannot be denied that Tacitus had, and yet has, his enemies. Rapin speaks of him in the following manner: "The politics of Tacitus are often false, be

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cause his morals are not true: either he makes the men too bad, or he is not himself plain enough. His reflections are not natural, because they want innocence. Hespoisons and puts an ill construction on things." He has, however, numerous advocates; among whom we may reckon Lipsius, La Mothe, Gordon, &c, Some ecclesiastical writers have exclaimed bitterly against Tacitus, for the partial manner in which he spoke of the Jews and Christians. But, as a celebrated author observes," it should be remembered he spoke the language of the Romans, and that the peculiarities of the Christians in his time, could not but draw upon them the odium, and the ridicule of the Pagans, and the imputation of superstition."

Before I close this article, I must not omit, that Pope Paul II wore out his Tacitus by much reading; and Cosmo de Medicis, the first great duke of Tuscany, Daccounted "the reading him his greatest pleasure."

The time of his death is not known; but it is supposed he lived to a very advanced age. Those of his works, which have survived the wreck of time, will long be admired, and viewed in their proper light, by men of discernment and talent.

› W*** College, March 12, 1821.

WOOD.

ANECDOTE AND WIT.

No. 42.-MR. CURRAN,

IN speaking of a learned Serjeant, who gave a confused, elaborate, and tedious explanation of some point of law, Curran observed, that whenever that grave counsellor endeavoured to unfold a principle of law, he put him in mind of a fool whom he once saw struggling a whole day to open an oyster with a rolling pin.

THE DUKE OF MARLBOROUGII.

INCONSISTENT as the Duke of Marlborough's character may appear to you, said Mr. Pope, yet it may be accounted for, if you guage his actions by his No. 42.

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