woman to be allowed ten shillings and sixpence at her lying-in, (if she has been married nine months) and in case she have twins she shall be allowed twenty-one shillings.

Article 12. Lastly, if any member shall offend against these Articles before written, or any of them, she shall be excluded from any further claim to or benefit from the stock: neither shall she be entitled to any money she has paid thereto; but shall be deemed unworthy any longer to be a member of this Society.

N.B. At this time there are 48 members, and the funds amount to upwards of seventy pounds.

TO-MORROW.

I.

How sweet, to the heart, is the thought of" to-morrow,"
When hope's fairy pictures bright colours display;
How sweet, when we can from futurity borrow
A balm for the griefs that afflict us to-day.

II.

When wearisome sickness has taught me to languish
For health, and the comforts it brings on its wing;
Let me hope, O how soon would it lessen my anguish!
That" to-morrow" will ease and serenity bring.

III.

When travelling alone, quite forlorn, unbefriended,
Sweet hope that "to-morrow" my wandering will cease,
That at home, then with care sympathetic attended,
I shall rest unmolested, and slumber in peace.

IV.

Or when, from the friends of my heart long divided,
The fond expectation with joy how replete!
That from far distant regions by Providence guided,
To-morrow" may see us most happily meet.

V.

When six days of labour, each other succeeding,
With hurry and toil have my spirits deprest,
What pleasure to think, as the last is receding,
"To-morrow "will be a sweet Sabbath of rest.

VI.

And when the vain shadows of time are retiring,
When life is fast fleeting, and death is in sight,
The Christian believing, exulting, aspiring,
Beholds a "to-morrow" of endless delight!

VII.

But the infidel, then, he sees no "to-morrow!"

Yet he knows that his moments are hastening away:
Poor wretch! can he feel, without heart rendering sorrow,
That his joys and his life will expire with " to-day!"

LETTER FROM A FATHER TO HIS SON, AN
APPRENTICE BOY.

MY DEAR BOY,

As you seem desirous of attending to such little accounts as I send you of the reigns of the English Kings, I am glad to write to you on this subject. If you remember well what I write, you will get a view of some of the principal parts of our history; and if, at any time, you are inclined to study a larger History of England, you will understand what you are about, and be able perhaps to gain more advantage from it than if you had begun with a large one at first. But, as it may happen, that you will not find much leisure for such studies, I shall be glad to think, that, even by means of these short accounts which I send you, you will not be wholly ignorant of the history of your own country.

In my last letter, I told you that Edward, the son of the Duke of York, was proclaimed king, in the year 1461, by the title of Edward the Fourth. They tell us that he was one of the finest, and handsomest looking men in the kingdom! But what signifies that? I cannot read of any thing that was good in his conduct, but I read of a great deal that was very disgraceful and wicked. He was dreadfully cruel, and revengeful, and profligate. The follow

ing story will show you the cruelty of his disposition, and his revengeful spirit. It happened, one day, that he was hunting in the park of a gentleman named Thomas Burdett. Now this gentleman was a great friend of the Duke of Clarence, the king's brother; and as the king was angry with his brother, on account of an old quarrel, he was glad to do a spiteful action to his brother's friend; and he, accordingly, killed a white buck which belonged to this gentleman, and which was a great favourite. Upon this, Burdett flew into a passion, and said he wished the horns of the deer were in the belly of the man who advised the king to this insult. For these words, Burdett was tried for his life, and hanged at Tyburn. A horrible piece of cruelty, the thoughts of which make us glad that we do not live in such days of tyranny and oppression. We may be sure that the Duke of Clarence would be grieved and angry at this savage act of revenge, as well as at the loss of his friend, and he spoke out his sentiments plainly, and said that the sentence was both unjust and cruel. For speaking these words, the king ordered the Duke of Clarence himself to be put to death; and there is a strange story about the manner in which this sentence was executed. It is said that the duke was allowed to chuse what death he would die; and he chose to be drowned in a but of Malmsey; a wine, I suppose, of which he was very fond. Accordingly a large cask of this wine was brought into the Tower, and into this the duke was thrown, with his head downwards, and thus was drowned.

The king was preparing for a war against the French, when he was seized with an illness, of which he soon afterwards died, at the age of about fortyone. This happened in the year 1483.

One cannot read of the history of ancient times, without shuddering at the horrible cruelties which were committed, and the tyrannical manner in which

many of the kings reigned over their people. And it seems that, in those days, they were allowed to do such things, without any manner of check or control. How happy ought we to think ourselves that we are secure, in these days, from such cruelties and oppressions! There are many people now who complain of the want of liberty, and talk a great deal against the king and the government, and seem full of anger and spite against every body who is richer and greater than themselves. I cannot help seeing that the greater part of these complaints are made with out any reason at all. I am sure, if we would fairly consider these things, as we ought to do, that, instead of murmuring and complaining, we should find a great deal indeed to be thankful for. Such cruelties as we read of in history could not be practised in our days. Our king and our nobles do not seem to have any wish to injure their inferiors, but appear I think to be always wishing to do them good. But, if they did wish to injure us, the laws would not allow them to do it; and I think it a great blessing that we live under such just and merciful laws. The poor, as well as the rich, are defended against any injury to their persons or their possessions; and we have all liberty to do every thing that is good and right for us to do. I never could make out what people meant by the cry of liberty, which we often hear so much of. I have lived to be an old man; and I never in all my life-time found that there was any law to prevent me from doing any thing that christian man ought to wish to do. As to my going and taking any other man's property, I am thankful to say that I never had any wish for it;-if I had, the laws would have checked me, and very properly too;-but the same laws protect my property likewise. I have but little, it is true: but I am thankful to say that I am contented, and had never any wish to get out of my station in life; because I know that happiness does not consist in greatness. When

I was young, however, I took a pleasure in being industrious; and, instead of throwing away what I earned, I was anxious to take care of it, knowing that a time might come when I should not be able to earn much, and when I might have the satisfaction of knowing that I could live on the fruits of my own past labour, without being a burden to any body, and without the distressing feeling of being obliged to go to the parish for help. What I have, I now, in some way, may call my own; and I say that it is a great blessing to live under a government where every man's property, little or great, is secure and safe. If a person is richer than I am, I have no liberty to go and take away his property from him;

and this is very proper :-and nobody has any right to take away mine:-and this sort of needful restraint is good and necessary for us all; and, instead of taking away real liberty, is the very way to give us true security and happiness, But I am getting away from the History of England, and shall therefore stop.

I am, my dear Boy,

Your affectionate Father,

July 8, 1823.

J. S.

OBITUARY OF JOSEPH D.

Joseph D was the inhabitant of a poor cottage, in the little hamlet of L, near E- -. His children might be known by their ragged appearance, and their rough and forward manners: not one of them could read, and they were generally to be seen idling about in the lanes, or standing at a gate, where they gained a few halfpence by opening it for the passengers. Sounds of strife, bitterness, and sorrow were often to be heard near the cottage;