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numerous exclamations, (for it was no novelty to their parents, though always interested by the appearance of it,) the little Maria gave utterance to her surprise by saying, “ Why, papa, it is as large as our house."

"Yes, my dear," he replied, " and perhaps twenty times as heavy."

"It would require a good strong pair of scales to weigh it in," archly observed Jasper.

"Yes," said Edmund, with the same sly humour; " and a pretty strong hand to hold them with, I imagine; almost as strong as yours, Jasper."

"And yet," said Mr. Gracelove, smiling at their amusing remarks," the science of geometry enables us to ascertain its weight without the necessity of scales, to which Jasper alludes, or hands to hold them; both of which, in this case, it would indeed be somewhat difficult to find. Its weight, then," he continued, “ has been estimated at 1,971 tons 13 cwt.: and it is calculated to contain 23,000 solid feet. In length it is 62 feet; 36 in height, and in circumference 89 feet.”

It was an observation of the late Mr. Wilkinson, in his tour to the British mountains, that "the launching of a first rate man-of-war would be an inferior operation to the launching of Bowder Stone from its native mountain; for all the men of Keswick, nay, all the men of Cumberland, could not stop it in its right place."

The sun was now fast declining in the western horizon, and Mrs. Gracelove hinted at the propriety of retracing their steps homewards. The boys would most willingly have sauntered about till the sun had set altogether; but, on their mamma intimating to them that other opportunities would be afforded to them of seeing the curiosities, as yet unvisited, of the valley, as well as those of the neighbouring valleys and lakes, they were content to return once more to dulce domum.

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Just as they reached the boat, in high glee at the happy day they had passed, the last rays of the departing sun were tinging with golden hues the summits and elevated sides of the mountains; while a stream of brilliant sunshine came pouring down the lovely vale of Newlands on the western shore. All was peaceful repose. The wind was hushed; not a zephyr ruffled the surface; and a delicious calm pervaded the lake, the sky, and the land. The bright and placid moon had risen in splendour above the eastern range of undulating cliffs and precipices, and the twilight of the west reflected in softened light the radiance that was gone. The scene was, indeed, impressively grand and full of inspiration. Cold must have been the heart that could have resisted the impulse of such a moment. But deeply christian and religious as were the feelings of Mr. and Mrs. Gracelove, the effect on their minds of this unsurpassable landscape was what Christians alone can feel. The Spirit of that mighty Being, who created in its magnificence all that they beheld, breathed in their souls in the silence of His power, as He once moved on the waters of chaos, suffusing light, and holiness, and peace.

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"Ever blessed and adorable," exclaimed Mrs. Gracelove, "must be that all-gracious Providence, whose creative goodness formed such a scene as this! Truly do the heavens declare' -in the inspired language of the psalmist- the glory of God, and the firmament showeth his handywork.' Truly, also, has an uninspired writer testified of Him who is the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and the last,

'These are thy glorious works, Parent of good,

Almighty! Thine this universal frame

Thus wondrous fair,-Thyself, how wondrous then!
Unspeakable! who sitt'st above these heavens,

To us invisible, or dimly seen

In these thy lowest works, yet these declare

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Thy goodness beyond thought and power divine." "—MILTON.

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Nothing, my dear," observed Mr. Gracelove, with eyes beaming with tenderness, "could better describe the emotions of my own heart, on this interesting occasion, than the impressive poetry, so justly adapted to the scene before us, and which you have so feelingly recited. Never have I experienced such a lively sensibility to the majesty of nature, or to the beneficent power of its supreme Creator, when sailing on the lakes of Switzerland, as I do at this moment. I can also, with truth and impartiality assert, that I regard our beautiful Derwentwater as quite equal, in all the essential features of variety and beauty, if not of grandeur, to anything that can be witnessed in either Swiss or Italian scenery. I allow that the mountains are loftier, and the expanse of waters greater, on the Continent than they are in Cumberland and Westmoreland; but the proportions of the latter are as nicely adjusted as in the former, and their diversity of outline, and romantic character, impress themselves on my senses with at least an equal admiration. And I have yet to learn," he added, "that the largest object must necessarily be the most beautiful. If so, where shall we place the diamond?

"But in addition to the fact, according to my humble apprehension," continued Mr. Gracelove," of an equal beauty existing between the foreign and English lakes, there is to me, as also to yourself, my dear," he said, addressing his wife, 'that charm of home, amid these splendid visions, which contains within itself alone an absorbing sentiment. It is not unmeaning poetry which says

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'Our first best country ever is at home.'

As a forcible illustration of this latter truth, take an instance from the most forlorn, barbarous, destitute, and uncivilized tribes in the world, in the person of an Esquimaux. Even to such an outcast as this from the world's community, though

for months together deprived of the cheering and blessed light of the sun, and shivering in an ice-hut amid darkness visible,' -their food a dead whale, and their beverage train-oil,—yet even to him the name and sentiment of home are twined around his affections.

"I remember, indeed," he continued, "the arrival, some years ago, of a party of Esquimaux in England. Yet all the radiance of our climate, as compared with theirs,—its genial warmth, its daily sun,-its abundance of food,-all the luxuries of a high civilization, in vain offered to them temptations to remain. They sighed for their ice-bound shores and hamlets again, for their sunless days, and weeks, and months, and shadowy twilight, their whale blubber and trainoil, and all this because it was their-home. And, finally, they left our bright shores for Polar darkness, with which alone they could associate the name and feeling of happi

ness!"

"And now, my darling Laura," said Mrs. Gracelove, addressing her daughter, “there remains but one wish of my heart ungratified in this day's pure and unalloyed pleasure. The wish I feel perfectly sure you will immediately respond to, with equal piety and affection, when I tell you what it is— namely, that you sing to us one of your many beautiful hymns."

"To this proposition, my dear," observed her husband, “I shall beg to move an amendment, which is, that as dear Laura has so sweet a voice, and so correct an ear, she should be the leader of our little choir; and, giving out verse by verse, we should all join with harmonious lips and feelings. Everything conspires to call forth this grateful exercise of our religious sympathies. The transcendent beauty of the heavens; the serenity of the air above and around us; the calm of the placid waters below us; and the thankful emotions of

our hearts for the happiness we have enjoyed-all unite to raise our spirits in happy unison with this visible magnificent creation to Him whose wondrous arm hath formed and governs all things."

"I do indeed respond to your wish, my dearest mamma," replied the amiable Laura," as well as to your amendment, my dearest papa; and I wait only till you select the hymn we shall sing."

After a few moments' consideration, the following was chosen, so deeply impressive in the devotion of its sentiments, the fervent aspirations of its hopes, and the tenderness of its language.

"Jerusalem! my happy home!

Name ever dear to me!

When shall my labours have an end,

In joy, and peace, and thee?

When shall these eyes thy heaven-built walls,

And pearly gates behold?

Thy bulwarks with salvation strong,

And streets of shining gold?

O when, thou city of my God,

Shall I thy courts ascend,

Where congregations ne'er break up,

And sabbaths have no end?

There happier bowers than Eden's bloom,

Nor sin, nor sorrow know,

Bless'd seats! through rude and stormy scenes

I onward press to you.

Why should I shrink at pain and woe?

Or feel at death dismay?

I've Canaan's goodly land in view,

And realms of endless day.

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