occasion, Dr. Turton, the present Bishop of Ely, then Regius Professor of Divinity, did ample justice, in an elegant Latin oration, to his almost unexampled labours and acquirements.

The name of PROFESSOR LEE will be held in honour both in England and on the Continent, so long as great talents, unconquerable perseverance, and Christian piety shall be valued among men; and justly celebrated as he is, it is perhaps his greatest praise, that it has been his first object to bring his vast stores of Oriental learning to bear upon the elucidation and illustration of the Sacred Scriptures.

While, then, we must ever contemplate with admiration, abilities and acquirements such as those which distinguish the eminent subject of this memoir, let us constantly bear in mind, that since "Whether there be tongues, they shall fail, or whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away," they only are truly wise, who are wise for eternity.

MARINE SKETCHES.

No. I.

THE ABATING OF THE STORM.

I LOVE to gaze upon the ocean, whether

The wrathful tempest down upon it swoop,

And in its swoll'n breast in gulphs tremendous scoop,

Hiding the tallest vessel venturing thither:

Or, yet more pleasing, now relents the weather,
And fast away the muster'd vapours troop,
Till the horizon circle with its hoop

The world of waters, rock'd to rest together.
How grandly then come rolling to the shore

The lingering waves, like fluted columns low,
Bursting upon the beach with surly roar,

As angry that they can no further go:

Till presently retiring, tamed and slow,
They seem their mighty SOVEREIGN to adore.

THE TALISMAN OF ENGLAND.

BY MRS. RILEY.

WHAT is it gives to England's Homes
Their powerful sway o'er every heart?
It is not that her stately domes

The magic of the spell impart ;
For 'neath the humblest roof is found
Some Talisman of mighty power,
Extending o'er the earth's wide bound,

And failing not, till life's last hour;
Linking the heart where'er her child may roam,
By love unchanging to his English Home.

Some amulet has England twined,

And bound it on each Briton's breast?
What precious gems are there enshrined;
What potent spells within it rest?
Spells-which no earthly hand can break,
Power-which no other spell can claim ;
Years every link the firmer make;

For while he bears a Briton's name,

On battle-field, or ocean's troubled foam,

His heart, and hope, are with his English Home.

That TALISMAN then wouldst thou know?

Its centre with a Diamond beams;

If peril round the nation grow,

Forth through the gloom, that jewel gleams:

"Tis English honour! English fame!
Undimm'd it pass'd from Sire to Son;
Shall we first soil that spotless name?
No! till our earthly course be run,

Still let us keep fair England's honour bright,
That gilds the humblest home with rays of light!

Next in the charm a Ruby glows;

Say, dost thou mark its crimson hue? And think'st thou that the blood of foes

Across that gem its shadow threw ? Oh no! from British veins it burst,

Shed on the field, and on the block, That freedom, in fierce conflicts nursed,

Might proudly stand each future shock:

For while our Laws, our Throne, our Faith remain, Peril may beat against our Homes in vain.

A Pearl, a matchless Pearl is there—
Long be its snowy hue unstain'd;

For if it lose that radiance fair

Oh, never can it be regain'd!

That Pearl, is Woman's purity:

For England deems her daughters' fame Meet in this Talisman to be,

Link'd with her Honour, Faith, and Name; For dim and cold her fairest Homes would prove Uncheer'd by Woman's smile-unwarm'd by Love.

Of such is England's Amulet;

And while each bright and priceless gem, In PURE RELIGION'S gold is set,

Well it befits her diadem :

But never let a daring hand

Detach the jewels from the gold;
If sever'd from that precious band,

No longer England's spell would hold;
But Happiness across the waves might roam,
Nor find an ark, e'en in an ENGLISH HOME.

(1)

speak to."

SOMEBODY TO SPEAK TO.

"I think we are too ready with complaint,
In this fair world of God's."

"Were half the breath thus vainly spent,
To Heaven in supplication sent,
Our cheerful song would oftener be,

Hear what the Lord hath done for me.'”

Fall the forlorn situations which leave a melancholy impression on the mind, and seem to follow us reproachfully into the midst of our own undeserved enjoyments, there is none more pitiable or desolate than that which is implied by the complaint, “I have nobody to

Social as man is and ought to be,-social from necessity; social from inclination; and, individually, endowed with a positive and negative mental and moral electricity, and continually demanding objects to receive that which he possesses, and to communicate that which he does not possess, he cannot be deprived of the society and sympathy of his fellow-creatures, without the balance of his whole existence being disturbed, and an important ingredient in his happiness annihilated. More dreadful and more dreaded than even death itself, solitary confinement, is considered the severest punishment that man can inflict on man; whilst the greatest solitary good that earth could give to the greatest of her children would be but an insupportable burden, if she could not add the common blessing of SOMEBODY TO SPEAK TO.

Yes, whatever our intellect, whatever our insignificance, whatever our resources, or whatever our occupations, we all, now and then, and more or less, want somebody to speak to; and perhaps, none so much want this, as those, who, in morbid pride and selfishness, fancy themselves the least dependent upon social intercourse.

High and low, rich and poor, old and young, have all the same instinctive yearning after being listened to and sympathized with; and, blessed be the God who made us, the means of satisfying this general desire are also within general reach. The helpless infant, unable to express its wants but by inarticulate wailings; the lisping child, with all

his new-born thoughts and joyous pastimes; the youth, with all his eager plans and passionate affections; the old man, with his first remembrances and last infirmities; the worldling immersed in the pomps and vanities of this wicked world, and the Christian, with the hope and resignation that preserve him from them,-all these require, and all these generally find, SOMEBODY TO SPEAK TO.

And here I am not unmindful of the high and holy meaning that may be given to these words; for the great Author of the Universe, "the God of the spirits of all flesh," represents HIMSELF as ever ready and willing to hear the prayer and heed the cry of all and each of the members of His numerous family. With deep and reverential feeling would I also here remember, that, to bring Himself yet nearer to His children's confidence, the Lord God took upon Himself our infirmities and our mortality, and still listens to us with the love that caused Him thus to come and dwell among us; but, besides all this, and in tender consideration for the requirements of the inferior nature which He has created, the Almighty gives to each of us, companions who are, like ourselves, a little lower than the angels, and who are, for that very reason, nearer and dearer to our mortal sympathies than even angels could be. Bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh, sinful, suffering, dying creatures like ourselves, such are the beings whom we best love to speak to; and few are doomed to seek for such in vain.

But, while all are conscious of this general and natural desire, in what different forms must it be realized, in order to satisfy each individual! With some, it is the instructor, the counsellor, the friend, who is demanded; with others, the loving and beloved; the one who is dear unto us as our own soul, and without whom the spirit sinks and dies within us. The learned, the witty, the intellectual, the amiable, are each respectively longed for, by individuals of kindred qualifications, as, somebody to speak to; and it is not anybody who can supply their place.

Far the greater number of mankind are, however, much less exacting in their expectations. With them, somebody to speak to, is merely some one who will please to listen as long as they may please to talk; but who, excepting this one requisite, may be anything or nothing else, ad libitum. He is wanted simply to be spoken to. This is literally all; and yet a third party present would conclude that this was quite enough; for indeed the hapless listener has an immensity to hear. Long, twice and thrice repeated stories, interesting to no one but the narrator; dry lists of names of places and of persons, that the listener has never known