fixed upon the ground next he threw off his arms, and, trembling, burst into a flood of tears. He then met the old man advancing, and with bitter sighs and lamentations implored his pardon, being, as it were, baptized a second time in his tears, only concealing his right hand. Then the apostle, pledging his faith, and swearing that he would obtain pardon for him from his Redeemer, having fallen on his knees and prayed, kissed the right hand of the young man as if it had been purified by repentance, and led him back to the church. Having besought God on his behalf with many prayers, and striving together by frequent fastings, and soothing his soul by many scriptural exhortations, the apostle, as they say, did not depart till he had restored him to the church, having afforded a signal example of sincere penitence, an illustrious instance of regeneration, and a trophy of a conspicuous resurrection.'

Upon this tradition, Mr. Dale, of Bene't College, Cambridge, has founded his beautiful poem of the 'Outlaw of Taurus.' Part of the energetic address of St. John, at the close of the poem, we quote as a specimen of the author's powerful genius. The outlaw has already sealed his repentance, and received, at the hands of the apostle, the most precious of its earthly rewards, in the shape of the heroine of the poem, by name Irene. St. John speaks

'But what are earth's vain fleeting charms
To that bright blest eternity

Which waits--O favoured maid-for thee?
The very thought my bosom warms,
As when in rocky Patmos lone

I communed with the HOLIEST ONE;
And o'er my head dread thunders broke,
And thus the viewless seraph spoke :-
"Mortal! from earth awake! arise!
And view the secrets of the skies.”
Hearken, my children-and behold
The glories of the latter day;

When heaven its portals shall unfold,
And earth and skies shall pass away.
It is the ETERNAL SIRE's decree,
That thus the final hour should be-
Pomp-glory-grandeur shall decay,
But his high word endure for aye.

One foot on earth, and one on sea,
A mighty angel towers to heaven;
Before his glance the mountains flee;

Beneath his tread the depths are riven-
Wreathed radiant round bis brows divine
The bright hues of the rainbow shine;
His aspect-like the broad red glare
Of the fierce sun's meridian ray,
Beams forth intolerable day-
The glory of the LORD is there.
Loud as the maddening lion's roar,
Or as the wild surge beats the shore,
He speaks-blue lightnings rend the sky,
And beaven in thunder gives reply.
Ne'er be those sounds, in mystery sealed,
To human ear on earth revealed.
And when that fearful sign was given,
He raised his dread right hand to heaven,
And thus the oath he swore :-
"Ye spacious skies, thou rooted earth,
By HIM who called you into birth
Your destined date is o'er;

I swear by HIM, whose sovereign sway
The bright angelic hosts obey,

By HIM who died, and lives for aye,
That time shall be no more."

Earth trembled at the sound, but, oh!
What shrieks of wailing and of woe,
What frantic yells of wild despair,
Tumultuous rend the troubled air;
In vain, the day of grace is o'er,
And love and pity plead no more.
Mark, where the rock-hewn cavern breaks,
And to his doom th' oppressor wakes;
Mark, where the fear-struck despot now

Dashes the diadem from his brow;

Beneath his foot the firm earth rends;

The heavens are darkening o'er him ;

The JUDGE, the SOVEREIGN JUDGE, descendsAnd who may stand before him?'

8.-ASCENSION DAY.

From the earliest times, this day was set apart to commemorate our Saviour's ascension into heaven: all processions on this and the preceding rogation days were abolished at the Reformation. Dr. Richardson, whom we have before quoted, gives us an interesting description of the Mount of Olives,' whence our Saviour ascended into heaven. • From Gethsemane' (observes this intelligent traveller) we wound our way up the Mount of Olives, which is a beautiful round table-shaped hill, covered with verdure and crops of grain, with a sprinkling of olive trees in different places. About half way up the hill is a ruined monastery, built on the place where our Saviour wept over Jerusalem. From this point the spectator enjoys, perhaps, the best view of the Holy City, and the three hills on which it stood are disstinctly seen. The Harám Schereeff, and mosque of the Sakhara, appear to particular advantage; and it would be difficult to conceive any thing in the form of a building more light and beautiful. On reaching the summit of the hill, the eye commands a delightful view of the surrounding country; extensive, however, only towards the east, on which side it embraces part of the Dead Sea and the river Jordan. There is a small village on the top of the mountain, and tolerably good crops of barley growing all round it. It is not relatively high, and the summit is not above two miles distant from Jerusalem, and would more properly be called a hill than a mountain. This was the frequent resort of our Saviour and his disciples, and every spot around is teeming with interest and scenes that eloquently speak to the heart; but that which imperiously calls away the mind from all the others, is on the highest point of the Mount of Olives, the place where our Saviour, blessing his disciples, was taken up into heaven. What a dreadful separation,—Christ and his disciples! No parting on earth was ever like unto this. They who enjoyed his vi

sible presence, and heard the heavenly instruction that flowed from his lips, could best describe their bereavement; but they were stunned and speechless: and who shall attempt to take up the theme? It is like the interruption of the divine intercourse in Paradise, the greatest privation that ever was sustained by man. Yet how unlike! The separation in Paradise left wrath and tribulation, and the curse of a broken law, and man ashamed to show his face under the weight of his offence, and the alarming conviction that the same God would annihilate the guilty race who, by their sins, had occasioned the hiding of his countenance; but the separation on the Mount of Olives left peace and blessing, and the promises of consolation-a restoration of the intercourse with God, since Christ had healed up the breach by which they were divided. The eyes of the Apostles gaze up into heaven; the eye of the body is speedily obscured in a heavenly pursuit: but for the spirit of the Christian in this line of vision there is no vanishing point; it shoots along the tract with its ascending Saviour, enters in his presence the mansions of the blessed, and appears, for the first time since the fall, in the presence of a reconciled God. This was an ecstasy not soon to be recovered from; the spirit enjoyed it, but the flesh was unconscious. The Apostles stood gazing up into heaven, till two of its messengers, in white apparel, recalled their spirits to the scene of their terrestrial operations. "Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven? This same Jesus which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven." He shall not come as the avenging God that planted the flaming sword to keep the way of the tree of life in Paradise, but as a reconciled and a blessing God; for he was taken up into heaven in the act of bestowing his blessing, and in like manner, we are assured, he is to return. Such heavenly strains did not fall ineffectual; the Apostles worshipped their

God and Saviour, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy.'-(Travels, vol. ii, p. 365.)

*11. 1822.—ABBE SICARD DIED, ET. 80, The philanthropic and celebrated director of the interesting institution of the Deaf and Dumb at Paris, and the worthy successor of the Abbé de l'Epée. It was upon the model of his school that almost all similar institutions were formed; and the exercises of his pupils were objects of curiosity with all foreigners on their arrival in Paris. At one of these public examinations, a pupil being asked to define his idea of red, immediately answered that it resembled the sound of a trumpet; a curious coincidence with the answer of blind Sanderson, who, being required to describe the sound of a trumpet, compared it to the colour red. At another public examination the following question was put to a pupil of the Abbé Sicard, which would have puzzled any one to have resolved in five words, though he had had the perfect use of his ears and his tongue, and yet it was answered with great quickness by one that had neither:-' What is gratitude?'-' The memory of the heart.'

*13. 1822.—JAMES BASIRE died, æt. 52,

Engraver to the Royal and Antiquarian Societies, for whom he executed some most splendid works, particularly the English Cathedrals, after the drawings of Mr. John Carter, F.S.A. The numerous plates illustrative of the highly valuable collection of PARLIAMENTARY REPORTS in fifteen volumes, which have been in course of publication for several years past, and are now completed, were engraved by Mr. BASIRE. In naming these perennial monuments of the good taste and good sense of the nation, it were an injustice to an honourable man, and an intelligent and enterprising printer, not to mention their splendid and accurate typography; far distant be the time, however, when we shall have to register his name in our mortuary calendar! Serus in cælum redeat!