AFFECTED SENSIBILITY.

SELECTED.

As Julia, 'midst a blithesome band,
Enjoyed a morning walk,
Careful she raised a drooping flower,
And tied its bending stalk.

"Ah! live," she cried, "most lovely rose,

And let your charms expand;

Free to the view your sweets disclose

Nor dread the spoiler's hand."

As in a grove, at close of day,
The feeling Julia strayed,

A wretched female crossed her way,
And thus implored her aid:

"In pity hear sad Emma's prayer,
And by your bounty save;
My father, who through want and care
Is sinking to his grave."

In vain the plaint of sad distress
Saluted Julia's ear,

She quickly passed, and heeded not

The suppliant's sad tear.

CONVERSION OF DAVID DREADNOUGHT.

BY DR. WHITCHURCH.

His father died and entered into rest;
Yet, ere he died, made this devout request-
Put up this one short prayer in spirit mild-
Correct, oh! God, but save my wandering child.

"As David rambled through a crowded street,
A church* with open doors he chanced to meet-
He entered, gazed around, (the scene was new)
Then sat him down for more distinctive view.
Feelings sublime across his rugged breast
Now stole, and scenes gone by upon him pressed;
While struggling to repress the truant tear,
66 Pray without ceasing" breaks upon his ear.
It was the preacher's text; reasons were given
Why prayer was offered to the King of Heaven;
Not duty only, but a privilege great,
For man to bow before God's mercy seat.
Also, life's gate was narrow, and that there
No traveller gains a passport without prayer;
He recollected what his life had been,-
A prayerless life of folly and of sin.

His stricken heart awhile with sorrow bled,
Involuntary tears of grief were shed;

Thus heavenly seed was sown to take deep root,
Spring up to life, and bear immortal fruit.

The next we hear of Dreadnought, on the deep
It was his turn the nightly watch to keep;
Deep silence reigned throughout the vast profound,
Broke only by the billows' murmuring sound;
The crescent moon rose from her oasy bed,
And o'er the scene her mild effulgence shed;
It was an hour most fitted to inspire

The breast with sacred, rich, and chaste desire;
"Pray without ceasing" fixes on his mind,
He fears to pray, though much to prayer inclined;
"Pray without ceasing" presses on him still;
Fain would he pray, but lacks the holy skill;
Fain would he raise to Heaven the urgent cry,
But on his trembling lips the accents die.

His watch expired, he for the book of truth
(Given by his father in his happier youth)
Searches, and grasps it with a trembling hand,
Determined to obey each high command."
Too long, alas! it had neglected lain,
Its sacred page defiled with many a stain !
That sacred book unread for many years,
He now bedews with penitential tears!

*St. Paul's, London.

A Savior's love causes that heart to melt,
Which real joy 'till now had never felt,

"And to the world he gladly would make known
The wondrous grace through the rich Gospel shown."
Dreadnought reads on, his heaven-taught mind ex-
pands,

The more he reads, the more he understands;
And on those stubborn knees, unused to bend,
He sues for mercy through the sinner's friend.
"Determined by the WORD his life to square,
He ponders o'er each sentence with due care;"
In the bright sea-life, and the life divine,
"It is his aim all others to outshine;

And while he mourns o'er many years misspent,
Oft calls upon his shipmates to repent.

CONVERSION OF MARY DESMOND AND HENRY MOWBRAY.

BY DR. WHITCHURCH.

But Mary Desmond's dress was neatly plain,
She scorned the gaudy trappings of the vain;
In manners, words, and in her dress was she
The very picture of simplicity.

Yet Mary had been gay, too fond of dress,
And too much flattered by the world's caress-
To tawdry show and company inclined,
Time's fleeting pleasures won upon her mind.
Not long her reason bowed to Folly's shrine,
She heaven-ward turned, and sought the life divine.
Blest be the hour that led my wayward feet
To Desmond's house, this Christian girl to meet.
"The Savior's love her heart with zeal inflamed,
The sailor's case her tenderest pity claimed;
She put me in the way her feet had trod,
The way of holiness that leads to God.
"And from a mind enriched with sacred lore,
Would on my listening ear instruction pour.

And though on shipboard I my breath resign,
I bow submissive to the will divine;
May my conversion from the paths of sin
Encourage those who would the sailor win.
But life ebbs fast-I must resign my breath ;-
Farewell, my shipmates-be prepared for death."

EXTRACT FROM THE SAME.

INTERMENT OF THE MORTAL REMAINS OF HENRY MOWBRAY, ON AN ISLAND IN THE BAY OF

Sail had been shortened, and the ship laid to,
And orders issued to the faithful crew;
They hoist the boat out, and with care convey
Their shipmate's relics safe within the bay.
No hearse was there with sable nodding plume,
No flattering epitaph on grandeur's tomb;
For woe's vile mockery they no mourner hired-
The evening gun was at interment fired.
No priest with sacred vestments held the book,
That solemn office pious Dreadnought took;
And, while the service he devoutly read,
Sad was each heart, uncovered every head.
Mute stood Marant, as fast the big tear ran
Down the dark face of that experienced man.
There Donald wept, and many a comrade brave
Their mingled sorrows poured on Henry's grave;
Whom all admired, now all alike deplore,
The youth sepulchred on that lonely shore.

PITY THE INEBRIATE.

SCENE.-Back Parlor. Mrs. S. having dressed and caressed her lovely babe, and descanted on his beauty, thus addressed her husband.

If James L. would but sober keep,
A place for him always to sleep,
I surely would provide ;

But he comes here in such a plight,
Sometimes at twelve o'clock at night-
I cannot this abide.

And when he visits us again,
Although it would my feelings pain,
I think I'll to him say-

If he cannot from drink refrain,
And a more steady course maintain,
He'd better stay away.

Our friends such characters despise,
And despicable in their eyes
We truly must appear,
When we such visitors receive;
It would my mind greatly relieve,
If he would not come here.

To hospitality inclined,

"T is always pleasing to my mind,
Dear Scotland's sons to see;
And from my oft replenished stores,
Impart the gifts kind Heaven pours
So lavishly on me.

But the young man metamphorized
Into a brute, should be despised
By Scotland's daughters fair;
I wish he truly would reform,
And to our household rules conform,
And of its comforts share.

JESSY.

When first I James L. knew,
Most interesting to the view
He truly did appear;