Her sails from Heav'n received no motion,
Her keel was steady in the ocean.

Without either sign, or sound of their shock,
The waves flow'd over the Inchcape Rock;
So little they rose, so little they fell,
That they did not move the Inchcape Bell.

The Abbot and Monks of Abberbrothock,
Had floated that bell on the Inchcape Rock;
On the waves of the storm it floated and swung,
And louder, and louder, it warning rung.

Where the rock was hid by the tempest's swell,
The mariners heard the warning bell;
And then they knew the perilous rock,
And blessed the Priest of Abberbrothock.

The sun, in heaven, shone so gay;
All things were joyful on that day;
The sea-birds scream'd, as they sported round,
And there was pleasure in their sound.

The float of the Inchcape Bell was seen,
A darker speck, on the ocean green;
Sir Ralph the Rover, walk'd his deck,
And he fix'd his eye on the darker speck.

He felt the cheering power of spring,
It made him whistle, it made him sing:
His heart was mirthful, to excess,
But the Rover's mirth was wickedness.

His eye was on the bell and float-
Quoth he, My men, put out the boat,

And row me to the Inchcape Rock,

And I'll plague the Priest of Abberbrothock.'

The boat is lower'd, the boatmen row,
And to the Inchcape Rock they go;
Sir Ralph bent over from the boat,
And cut the warning bell from the float.

Down sunk the bell, with a gurgling sound,

The bubbles rose, and burst around;

Quoth Sir Ralph, The next that come to the rock Will not bless the Priest of Abberbrothock.'

Sir Ralph the Rover, sailed away,
He scour'd the seas for many a day;
And now grown rich, with plunder'd store,
He steers his course to Scotland's shore.

So thick a haze o'erspreads the sky,
They could not see the sun on high ;
The wind had blown a gale all day,
At evening it had died away.

On the deck the Rover takes his stand,
So dark it is, they see no land;

Quoth Sir Ralph, It will be lighter soon,
For there is the dawn of the rising moon.'

'Canst hear,' said one, the breakers roar ; For yonder, methinks, should be the shore. Now, where we are, I cannot tell,

But I wish we could hear the Inchcape bell.'

They hear no sound, the swell is strong,
Tho' the wind hath fallen they drift along!

Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock,-
Mercy!-it is the Inchcape Rock!

Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair;
He curs'd himself in his despair;
The waves rush in on every side,
The ship is sinking beneath the tide.

But even in his dying fear

One dreadful sound could the Rover hear;
A sound, as if with the Inchcape Bell,

The devil below was ringing his knell."

very

Poetical Register.

"A different conduct," said Agnes, "from that of Sir Ralph the Rover, was observed by Louis the Fourteenth, during the erection of the Eddystone Light-house."

"What was that, ma'am?" asked one of her scholars.

"On a rock," replied Agnes, "at the entrance of Plymouth Sounds, about nine miles from land, stands this celebrated light-house. The many fatal accidents which have happened from ships running upon these dreadful rocks, urged the necessity of erecting a light-house on the spot; and, accordingly, in 1696, one was undertaken to be built by Mr. Winstanley. In a dreadful tempest, this lighthouse was blown down, and all those that were in it perished. Another was immediately erected, which, in December, 1755, took fire and was destroyed. The present building was constructed

by Mr. Smeaton, in 1774. Connected with the building of the light-house, Mr. Smeaton relates the following anecdote.-Louis the Fourteenth being at war with England, during the erection of this building, a French privateer took the men at work upon the Eddystone rock, together with their tools, and carried them to France; and the Captain was in expectation of a reward for the achievement. While the captives lay in prison, the transaction reached the ears of the monarch: he immediately ordered them to be released, and the captors to be put in their places; declaring, that though he was at war with England, he was not at war with mankind. He, therefore, directed the men to be sent back to their work, with presents; observing, that the Eddystone light-house was so situated, as to be of equal service to all nations having occasion to navigate the channel between England and France.

"All Louis the Fourteenth's conquests were inferior to this single trait, and it was more precious in the sight of his Heavenly Father; for no life is pleasing to God but that which is useful to man. The love of God, and love of man, are so intimately connected, that they cannot be separated. If we love our Creator truly, we shall love our neighbour also."

CHAPTER XXXV.

Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it."

MILD TREATMENT IN YOUTH ADVANTAGEOUS.

COME, now, my dear little girls," said Agnes, "this is a new day, so we must as usual begin it well, and I hope you will be all very attentive while I read a chapter in the New Testament to you, for, believe me, you are all equally interested in its contents." When Agnes had done reading and explaining what she read to her scholars, she closed the book and said," Here is a little Treatise on the management of children, take it, Ann, as you are the oldest here, and read one of the chapters to your companions."

Ann took the book and read with a clear voice :"It has often been said that young people, who have a happy and peaceable home, generally turn out well. This is natural; happiness will ever negender good feeling, for it is according to the laws of nature that each thing shall produce its own true concomitant; that good shall produce good things, and evil give birth to evil things. Every parent who