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all about it." Our friend sat down flammation of the eyes—all arising accordingly, while Abernethy, stand- from irritation of the stomach. Peoing with his back against the table, ple laugh at me for talking so much thus began : “I take it for granted about the stomach. I sometimes tell that, in consulting me, you wish to this story to forty different people of know what I should do for myself, a morning, and some won't listen to were I in a predicament similar to me, so we quarrel, and they go and yourself. Now, I have no reason to abuse me all over the town. I can't suppose that you are in any particular help it-they come to me for my adpredicament; and the terrible mischief vice, and I give it them, if they will which you apprehend, depends, I take take it. I can't do any more. Well, it, altogether upon the stomach. Mind, Sir, as to the question of diet, I must

-at present, I have no reason to be- refer you to my book. (Here the lieve that there is anything else the professor smiled, and continued smiling matter with you.” (Here my friend as he proceeded.) There are only was about to disclose sundry dreadful about a dozen pages—and you will maladies with which he believed him- find, beginning at page 73, all that it self afflicted, but he was interrupted is necessary for you to know. I am with “Diddle-dum, diddle-dum, did- christened Doctor My-Book,' and dle-dum dee!" uttered in the same satirized under that name all over smooth tone as the previous part of England; but who would sit and listen the address-and he was silent.) to a long lecture of twelve pages, or “Now, your stomach being out of remember one half of it, when it was order, it is my duty to explain to you done? So I have reduced my direchow to put it to rights again; and, in tions into writing, and there they are whimsical way,

I shall give you an for any body to follow, if they please. illustration of my position; for I like “ Having settled the question of to tell people something that they will diet, we now come to medicine. It remember. The kitchen, that is, your is, or ought to be, the province of a stomach, being out of order, the garret medical man to soothe and assist Na(pointing to the head) cannot be right, ture, not to force her. Now, the only and egad! every room in the house medicine I should advise you to take, becomes affected. Repair the injury is a dose of a slight aperient medicine in the kitchen,-remedy the evil there, every morning the first thing. I won't -(now don't bother,) and all will be stipulate for the dose, as that must be right. This you must do by diet. If regulated by circumstances, but you you put improper food into your sto must take some; for without it, by mach, by Gad you play the very devil Gad! your stomach will never be right. with it, and with the whole machine People go to Harrowgate, and Buxton, besides. Vegetable matter ferments, and Bath, and the devil knows where, and becomes gaseous; while animal to drink the waters, and they retum substances are changed into a putrid, full of admiration at their surpassing abominable, and acrid stimulus. efficacy. Now these waters contain (Don't bother again !) You are go- next to nothing of purgative medicine; ing to ask, “What has all this to do but they are taken readily, regularly, with my eye?' I will tell you. Ana- and in such quantities, as to produce tomy teaches us, that the skin is a the desired effect. You must perse. continuation of the membrane which vere in this plan, Sir, until you expelines the stomach; and your own ob- rience relief, which you certainly will servation will inform you, that the do. I am often asked—Well, but, delicate linings of the mouth, throat, Mr. Abernethy, why don't you pracnose, and eyes, are nothing more. tise what you preach ?' I answer, by Now some people acquire preposterous reminding the inquirer of the parson noses, others blotches on the face and and the sign-post : both point the way, different parts of the body, others in- but neither follow its course."-And

thus ended a colloquy, wherein is min- of Nature. In the progress of science, gled much good sense, useful advice, many things, which at one time apand whimsicality.

peared absurd and productive of evil, As a lecturer, Mr. Abernethy stands have afterwards, upon an accession of unrivalled. His countenance is that knowledge, been found to be most of a man of great genius ; and a nose wise and beneficent.

I deem no apoof Grecian form adds very considerably logy requisite, gentlemen, for endeato the acute expression of bis features; voring to impress on your minds cerwhile his light grey eyes, always ani- tain axioms relating to philosophy in mated, seem as if they could pierce general, when they are directly deduthrough the very depths and intricacies cible from the subjects of our peculiar of science. His forehead is finely studies. I have constantly and careformed, and has afforded Spurzheim fully avoided every argument foreign (to whose system of craniology Mr. to the subject ; so that, if occasionally Abernethy to a degree subscribes) I may have appeared to sermonize, I many a luxurious feast; while the have quoted both the chapter and verse scowl of deep thought, which has cast of my text from the book of Nature. a shade of reflection over his brow, is I address you, gentlemen, as students frequently dissipated by the smile of of that great book, and earnestly exhumor or derision. He begins his hort you to study it with such sentilecture in an unconstrained familiar ments as I have endeavored to incultone of voice, gradually getting more cate. The conviction that everything animated and eloquent, as he advances tends to some immediate or essential toward the pith and marrow of his good, is the greatest incentive to this subject; and, after lopping off all the study. It was this conviction that absurd and useless minutiæ of the sci- excited Hunter to such continual inence, and after refuting all inconsistent quiry, or involved him occasionally in theories, he arrives at the conclusion, the depths and perplexities of intense leaving his auditors deeply impressed thought ; for he was never satisfied with his instruction. He is an excel- without being able to assign an adelent chemist ; and never fails to point quate reason for whatever he observed out the agency of this science in the in the structure and economy of anioperations and functions of the frame. mals. This conviction makes the Of Jolin Hunter he never fails to ex- study of Nature highly interesting ; press his admiration and delight; and and may, indeed, be said to render repeatedly declares that he has done labor delightful, or to mitigate the more for the improvement of modern pains attendant on its toil. To those surgery than any other individual who entertain such sentiments as I whatever.

bave endeavored to inculcate, everyWe cannot better conclude this, we thing seems animated, beneficent, and fear, imperfect sketch, than by quoting useful ; they have the happy talent of the following eloquent passages from discovering even his last physiological lecture before

Tongues in the trees, books in the running the College of Surgeons, in 1817.

brooks, I pity the man who can survey all Sermons in stones, and good in everything.' the wonders of the animal and vegeta - Such is Abernethy; and when death ble kingdoms, who can journey through shall have buried in oblivion all the so delightful a district, and afterwards blots and shadows of his character'exclaim,· All is barren !' Still more when another generation shall hare do I pity those, though the sentiment sprung up, and known bim only by the is mixed with strong disapprobation of triumphant memorials, which he will their conduct, who, after having seen bequeath to them in his works ; then much to admire, shall, when they will they couple the names of Hunter meet with a circumstance which they and Abernethy together, and regard do not understand, presumptuously dare them as two of the most distinguished to arraign the wisdom and benevolence benefactors of their race.

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THE YOUNGLING OF THE FLOCK.

BY ALARIC A. WATTS.

The last ! the last ! the last !
Oh ! by that little word
How many thoughts are stirred.-Miss BOWLES.

WELCOME ! thrice welcome to my heart, sweet barbinger of bliss!
How have I looked, till hope grew sick, for a moment bright as this ;
Thou hast flashed upon my aching sight, when fortune's clouds are dark,
The sunny spirit of my dreams—the dove unto mine ark !
Oh no, not e'en when life was new, and love and hope were young,
And o'er the firstling of my flock with raptured gaze I hung,
Did I feel the glow that thrills me now, the yearnings fond and deep,
That stir my bosom's inmost strings as I watch thy placid sleep!
Though loved and cherished be the flower that springs 'neath summer skies,
The bud that blooms 'mid wintry storms more tenderly we prize;
One does but make our bliss more bright, the other meets our eye
Like a radiant star, when all beside have vanished from on high.
Sweet blossom of my stormy hour-star of my troubled heaven!
To thee, that passing sweet perfume, that soothing light is given ;
And precious art thou to my soul, but dearer far that thou,
A messenger of peace and love,-art sent to cheer me now.
What though my heart be crowded close with inmates dear though few,
Creep in, my little smiling babe, there's still a niche for you !
And should another claimant rise, and clamor for a place,
Who knows but room may yet be found, if it wears as fair a face!
I listen to thy feeble cry, till it wakens in my breast
The sleeping energies of love sweet hopes, too long represt!
For weak as that low wail may seem to other ears than mine,
It stirs my heart like a trumpet's voice, to strive for thee and thine !
It peals upon my dreaming soul, sweet tidings of the birth
Of a new and blessed link of love, to fetter me to earth;
And strengthening many a bright resolve, it bids me do and dare
All that a father's heart may brave, to make thy sojourn fair !
I cannot shield thee from the blight a bitter world may fing
O'er all the promise of thy youth--the vision of thy spring ;-
For I would not warp thy gentle heart-each kindlier impulse ban,
By teaching thee—what I have learned—how base a thing is man!
I cannot save thee from the grief to which our flesh is heir,
But I can arm thee with a spell, life's keenest ills to bear.
I may not fortune's frowns avert, but I can bid thee pray
For wealth this world can never give, nor ever take away.
From altered friendship's chilling glance—from hate's envenomed dart;
Misplaced affection's withering pang-or" true love's” wonted smart,
I cannot shield my sinless child; but I can bid him seek
Such faith and love from heaven above, as will leave earth's malice weak.
But wherefore doubt that He who makes the smallest bird his care,
And tempers to the new-shorn lamb the blast it ill could bear,
Will still his guiding arm extend, his glorious plan pursue,
And if he gives thee ills to bear, will grant thee courage too!
Dear youngling of my little fold, the loveliest and the last !
"Tis sweet to deem what thou may'st be, when long, long years have past ;
To think, when time hath blanched my hair, and others leave my side,
Thou may'st be still my prop and stay, my blessing, and my pride.

And when the world has done its worst—when life's fever fit is o'er,
And the griefs that wring my weary heart can never touch it more ;
How sweet to think thou may'st be near, to catch my latest sigh,
To bend beside my dying bed, and close my glazing eye.
Oh! 'tis for offices like these the last sweet child is given,
The mother's joy-the father's pride, the fairest boon of heaven;
Their fireside plaything first, and then, of their failing strength the rock;
The rainbow to their waning years,—the Youngling of their Flock !

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THERE are few lines which have been rificed for the benefit of its successor ? more frequently quoted than this, and In childhood, we are taught that all few sentiments the truth of which has our industry is for the advantage of been more universally felt. Men are riper years : the whole

season of ever on the anxious and unquiet youth is a preparation for manhood : search after that happiness which sits in manhood, the habit of expectation neglected by their side ; and, like Pyrr- is too deeply rooted to be effaced; and hus, each one has some kingdom to con- old age arrives bidding men prepare quer, before he can enjoy the good he for another state of existence, before already possesses. I should not repeat they have learned to live in this. If here an observation which has a thou- it is possible for man to be happy, it is sand times afforded a subject to the possible for him to be so now; if virrhetorician and the satirist; but that tue constitute that happiness, to be virit has occurred to me, that this dispo- tuous now is the only guarantee of the sition to procrastinate our happiness happiness of the future. Let moralists, has been much favored and increased then, found more of their discourse on by the method of moralizing common the felicity of the present; let them to all counsel-giving gentry. The re not throw that into the distance, which mote consequence of an action is the ought to be brought as near as posfirst object of their consideration ; the sible ; let them not wander wide to immediate happiness or unhappiness find motives to that conduct the plearesulting to the agent, is seldom con sure of which should be itself the first templated. Its effect upon the future inducement. is the sole motive they urge : to-day

The remoter consequences of an has no value, but in its influence on action are not, of course, to be overto-morrow: the present is, in all looked; but, by dwelling upon them cases, to be sacrificed to the future : it almost exclusively, we learn to forget is something to be put out to interest, the more immediate ones, and to atto be speculated upon after the best tach that importance to a time yet to calculations of profit and loss. From come which would be better attached the earliest to the latest moment of to the moment that is with us. The our lives, instructers of all kinds are great object of every man is, or ought perpetually representing the future as to be, the perfection of his moral chathe rule by which to judge of the racter; and, although it may be nepresent. Can it be wondered at, that cessary that, to be fully convinced of we should learn to attach but little this, he should have looked abroad importance to the latter, and that we upon the future ; yet, the object once should fall into the absurd habit of recognised, he can only effect it by enneglecting the hour before us, tò in- trenching himself within the present. crease the enjoyment of some future It is in vain that he extends his imagihour, which, in its turn, is to be sac- nation over a well-spent life; the

strength of his will is exhausted in one, I would attempt to distract his resolves which relate not to the pre- thoughts by no other method than by sent time, and cannot, therefore, be fixing them on the external details of acted upon. His are aspirations, in- his situation. I would draw his atdeed, rather than resolutions. He is tention to the mean apartment in an architect who is continually dwell- which he dwelt, to his lack of attending upon, and embellishing, his plan, ance, to his meagre and ill-served but of whose palace not one stone fare, to the unpolished and unceremowill be laid. Let him limit himself nious deportment of those around him. to the hour; let him live by the day; No deprivation or neglect should pass let him think honestly and feel ho- unnoticed : each circumstance of ponestly now, and it will soon come that verty, as it arose before him, should the morrow will take care for itself. be dwelt upon and estimated, till he With the philosopher as with the li- should be able fairly to judge of that bertine, the present hour is worth all situation which he had invested with the rest.

so much horror, and by learning what I know of no remedy to the evils of he had really lost, discover what had life so constant and so sure as the ha- been still left to him. bit of withdrawing ourselves into that Even physical pain, or, to speak portion of it which is immediately more correctly, the state of unhappipassing before us—of looking near at ness resulting from physical pain, adthose very miseries which, when cast mits of being alleviated by the same into the distance, appear so fearful and process. It is not the actual amount overwhelming. By extending our ex- of suffering which forms the whole, or istence over the future, we make each even the greater part, of the misery of moment bear the burden of many a sick man's chamber. It is the anr. years : by failing to look closely at the ious, restless regard which he casts evils of life, we are ever deceived as unto the future, the impatient wish for to their nature :-we suffer without his cure, and the harassing fear that gaining experience-we endure with- it inay be long delayed, that originate out improving in fortitude. A great the greatest portion of his agony. It portion of the miseries of men have is not the malady of the present motheir origin in their servile obedience ment only that he endures : he has erto the opinions of others. They are tended his sensibility over days and miseries because society chooses to nights to come ; and languishes in imthink or call them such. How shall agination in the sufferings of many we be disabused of this error, but by months or years. The general cussteadfastly regarding the facts them- tom is to amuse and support patients selves, which are reported to be of so with the hope of a speedy cure, -2 cruel a description ?

hope which must often be disappointTake the example of one who has ed, and which only retards the acquifallen from opulence into what he calls sition of the fortitude so necessary to poverty. He starts every moment at them. I should wish rather that they the bitter reflection of what other should fix their attention on the immemen are saying of him, and how other diate pain that must be endured, men will, in future, grect him. The should estimate its power over them, real outward circumstances, the actual and the amount of force which redeprivations which he has to sustain, mained to them after having supported do not press upon him in the least. it. How often do we find persons of These he forgets—these he passes the weakest frame subject to alınost over, to torture himself in divining the continual illness, who, because they whispers of society ; in picturing to no longer seek for support in the hope himself a future of the keenest humi- of remedy, but in a dependance on liation, of ruined hopes and mortified their own sortitude, pass a life of sevanity. Were I the friend of such a renity and cheerfulness amongst suf

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