with his relatives, and then, perhaps,

you may see him again.

་་་

Amelia.-How soon you change the scene! This again is quite different; Lot is now coming from his house, accompanied with his wife and daughters, and protected by a superior power. How he lingers! His guard presses him forward; he points to a city at a small distance, and appears requesting permission to go thither. D.-Again you are correct; Lot had not left off choosing for himself: attend, and you will presently perceive the consequence.

Amelia. The rising sun now plainly

discovers the buildings of the city.

Harriot.-O how dreadful! Fire from heaven is descending upon it! Lot's wife looks back, and the distant flames illumine the pillar of salt which she is now become.

D. Which do you now think had the most reason to be contented with his lot; the nephew who chose according to appearances, or the uncle who patiently accepted what the other

left?

Amelia.-There can be, no hesitation in deciding on that point, all must acknowledge that Abraham's lot was far better than his nephew's choice.

D.-It would be well if all were of your opinion, but it is too generally the case that men rather prefer their

H

own choice, than cordially accept the appointment of Providence.

When the young ladies had resumed their stations, Harriot immediately said, O I know this, it is Abraham and Isaac: Abraham has the knife and fire in his hand, and Isaac the wood on his shoulder. I do not see the altar.

Amelia.-Perhaps they are conversing about it, for Abraham is heaping some earth together between two little hillocks; I dare say that is for it.

Harriot.-That cannot be, for I have always seen it represented as built of stones, with mortar between them.

But you see, replied Amelia, that it is designed for the altar, for Abra

ham is now putting the wood upon it. What deep abstraction his countenance indicates? He turns to his son-he pauses-surveys the altar— adjusts the wood-again looks towards his son, whose expressive countenance seems to say, My father; here is the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering? Abraham takes him by the hand, and I imagine makes known to him the command he

is going to execute.-Yes, it certainly was so. How affectionately they embrace! The parent binds the unresisting youth-lays him on the altar— now stretches forth his hand, and takes the knife to slay his son.-But look! His eyes are instantaneously di

rected towards heaven! while he hearkens with inexpressible delight to the gracious determination now revealed to him. He discovers the ram -snatches it from the thicket, and gladly offers him up for a burnt offering, as a substitute for his son.

Miss Amelia, said the exhibitor, I wish the artist had done equal justice to the scripture fact, as you have done to his representation.

Mrs. N.-It affords me pleasure to find that my daughter's description meets your approval; I hope it will not make her vain, for it must be acknowledged that your scenes are truly descriptive of the facts which they represent.