till, the waves rolling over the quarter-deck, and taking with them several persons who were standing near them, it was no longer safe to remain there. The father took his child in his hand, and ran towards the shrouds; but the boy could not mount with him. He cried out therefore, Father! father! do not leave me !' But finding that his son could not climb with him, and that his own life was in danger, he withdrew his hand. When morning came, the father was conveyed on shore with some other passengers who were preserved, and as he was landing, he said within himself, 'How can I see my wife without having our boy with me?' When, however, the child's earthly parent let go his hand, his heavenly Father did not leave him. He was washed off the deck, but happily clung to a part of the wreck on which some other passengers were floating. With them he was miraculously preserved. When he was landing, not knowing of his father's safety, he said, 'It is no use to take me ashore now I have lost my father.' He was, however, carried much exhausted to the same house where his father had been sent, and actually placed in the same bed, unknown to either, till clasped in each other's arms. When we read the interesting fact, regarding this poor ship-boy, let us remember the words of David, 'When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord taketh me up."" VIOLATION OF THE SABBATH. THE Sabbath is obviously violated by the wilful neglect of religious duties. It is likewise profaned by cherishing worldly thoughts, wishes, calculations, projects; by conversation which has reference only to temporal and earthly interests; by visits which are not adapted to the exercise or promotion of religious affections; by reading works which, though not improper on other days, tend rather to deaden than animate the spirit in the work of the Lord; by journeys, whether for business or for recreation; by writing or receiving letters on the ordinary transactions of life; by bath, or unfit us for a spiritual and profitable employment of them; by engaging in the ordinary labours of life, or employing others in such labours; by the publication or reading of political and commercial papers; by attending promenades, houses of entertainment, gardens of pleasure; in short, by every thing in thought, or feeling, word, or action, dress, manner, or appearance, that argues a forgetfulness of the Sabbath, or is incompatible with keeping it holy.-Stowell. ORNITHOLOGICAL REMARKS ON GREENWICHPARK. (Concluded from page 206.) II. BIRDS THAT ARE MIGRATORY. "Amusive birds! say where your hid retreat, THE cuckoo. This bird is about the size of a sparrowhawk, and appears about the third week in April: it is heard in the neighbourhood of the park in the spring. The titlark. This bird in appearance is not unlike a skylark, but is less. It perches on the trees. Its note is fine, but short, and without much variety: it warbles in the air like the skylark, and increases its song as it descends slowly to the branch on which it chooses to perch. The spotted flycatcher appears in May: it is of a dusky colour; the head and back are spotted with black, and the breast and belly of a dirty white. It is to be seen near the out-buildings of the Observatory. It feeds on flies, which it catches on the wing: it sometimes watches for its prey, sitting on a branch or post, and with a sudden spring takes it as it flies, and immediately returns to its station to watch for more. This bird is the most mute of all our summer till, the waves rolling over the quarter-deck, and taking with them several persons who were standing near them, it was no longer safe to remain there. The father took his child in his hand, and ran towards the shrouds; but the boy could not mount with him. He cried out therefore, Father! father! do not leave me !' But finding that his son could not climb with him, and that his own life was in danger, he withdrew his hand. When morning came, the father was conveyed on shore with some other passengers who were preserved, and as he was landing, he said within himself, 'How can I see my wife without having our boy with me?' When, however, the child's earthly parent let go his hand, his heavenly Father did not leave him. He was washed off the deck, but happily clung to a part of the wreck on which some other passengers were floating. With them he was miraculously preserved. When he was landing, not knowing of his father's safety, he said, 'It is no use to take me ashore now I have lost my father.' He was, however, carried much exhausted to the same house where his father had been sent, and actually placed in the same bed, unknown to either, till clasped in each other's arms. When we read the interesting fact, regarding this poor ship-boy, let us remember the words of David, 'When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord taketh me up."" VIOLATION OF THE SABBATH. THE Sabbath is obviously violated by the wilful neglect of religious duties. It is likewise profaned by cherishing worldly thoughts, wishes, calculations, projects; by conversation which has reference only to temporal and earthly interests; by visits which are not adapted to the exercise or promotion of religious affections; by reading works which, though not improper on other days, tend rather to deaden than animate the spirit in the work of the Lord; by journeys, whether for business or for recreation; by writing or receiving letters on the ordinary transactions of life; by bath, or unfit us for a spiritual and profitable employment of them; by engaging in the ordinary labours of life, or employing others in such labours; by the publication or reading of political and commercial papers; by attending promenades, houses of entertainment, gardens of pleasure; in short, by every thing in thought, or feeling, word, or action, dress, manner, or appearance, that argues a forgetfulness of the Sabbath, or is incompatible with keeping it holy.-Stowell. ORNITHOLOGICAL REMARKS ON GREENWICH- (Concluded from page 206.) 11. BIRDS THAT ARE MIGRATORY. "Amusive birds! say where your hid retreat, THE cuckoo. This bird is about the size of a sparrowhawk, and appears about the third week in April: it is heard in the neighbourhood of the park in the spring. The titlark. This bird in appearance is not unlike a skylark, but is less. It perches on the trees. Its note is fine, but short, and without much variety: it warbles in the air like the skylark, and increases its song as it descends slowly to the branch on which it chooses to perch. The spotted flycatcher appears in May: it is of a dusky colour; the head and back are spotted with black, and the breast and belly of a dirty white. It is to be seen near the out-buildings of the Observatory. It feeds on flies, which it catches on the wing: it sometimes watches for its prey, sitting on a branch or post, and with a sudden spring takes it as it flies, and immediately returns to its station to watch for more. This bird is the most mute of all our summer The summer warblers. Several birds of this numerous family visit Greenwich-Park, the principal of which are ;— 1. The nightingale. This bird, so deservedly esteemed for the excellence of its song, is not remarkable for the variety or richness of its colours. The upper part of the body is of reddish brown, tinged with olive; the under, of a pale ash colour; and the tail, a deep tawny red. The nightingale is about the size of a hedge-sparrow: it visits this country in the beginning of April, and may he heard in the plantation on the east side of the park, or more particularly in the paddock of the Princess Sophia Matilda, from the middle of April to the middle of May. During this time it may be heard singing both during the day and night, but especially the latter. The following animated description of the warble of the nightingale is taken from the ingenious author of the "Histoire des Oiseaux:""The leader of the vernal chorus begins with a low and timid voice, and he prepares for the hymn to nature by assaying his powers and attuning his organs; by degrees the sound opens and swells, it bursts with loud and vivid flashes, it flows with smooth volubility, it faints and murmurs, it shakes with rapid and violent articulations; the soft breathings of love and joy are poured from his inmost soul, and every heart beats in unison, and melts with delicious languor. But this continued richness might satiate the ear. The strains are at times relieved by pauses, which bestow dignity and elevation. The mild silence of evening heightens the general effect, and not a rival interrupts the solemn scene." Mr. Coleridge, in his "Conversational Poem written in April," thus beautifully and correctly describes the song of the nightingale : "All is still, A balmy night! and though the stars be dim, And hark! the nightingale begins its song. |