For oh, ber loved brother she shortly will follow,
Already death sits in her cheeks' wasted hollow.
And every bright tint of her beauty is fled,
For she's dying away,-oh, soft! she is dead.

NORTH FORELAND LIGHT-HOUSE.

R.

This is situated in the isle of Thanet, between Margate and Ramsgate. It is sixty-three feet high, and stands on an eminence projecting into the sea in the form of a bastion. The elevation of its site, which is apparent from the circumstance of its overlooking the masts of the ships, renders it highly condusive to the safety of mariners, especially in enabling them to avoid striking on the Goodwin Sands. The first light-house erected here was of timber and was burnt down in 1683. It was replaced by a strong building of flint, to which in 1793 two stories were added. It was formerly lighted by a coal fire, but afterwards by patent lamps, which continue burning from sunset till daybreak, and are so bril liant that, in clear weather, their light is visible at the Nore, distant ten leagues.

If the conjecture of some antiquaries be true, this bleak and weather-beaten corner of land is the Cantium of Ptolemy, and may claim the distinction of having given name to the county; or rather of having been distinguished by that geo. grapher with an appellation derived from the name which the aborigines had already conferred on the district. Caint, a British word, signifying a country abounding with fair open downs, was properly applied to Kent, and it seems to have been adopted implicitly both by the Romans and the Saxons. The latter, according to their general usage, translated the name of the principal city in Kent from Caer y Gaint into a compound appellation, which their descendants write and pronounce Canterbury.

EPITAPH ON A MR. PENNY.

Reader, if cash thou art in want of any,
Dig four feet deep, and thou wilt find A PENNY.

THE SACRIFICE.

She stood at the altar, the young, the fair,
With colorless cheek, but tranquil air;
A passive paleness her brow had won,

As though she pray'd heaven" Thy will be done."

There was no glow on her youthful cheek,
That moment's depth of feeling to speak;
But a cold and unmoved apathy,
Marbled her features and dull'd her eye.

Yet there-Oh there, in its hazel round,
The hidden thoughts of her heart were found;
A voiceless anguish tearless and dry,
Mirror'd itself in that speaking eye.

T'were pain to gaze on the frozen woe
That lingered her fringy lids below;

T'were pain to mark how the strong soul shook,
At the stern resolve that soul had took.

What recks the wreath that her brows entwine?
She stands a victim at duty's shrine;
Can the splendid chain with its links of gold,
Bind up a heart that is blighted and cold?

She came not there with her bridal wreath.
The words of eternal love to breathe:
She came there deck'd for the sacrifice,
Of hopes and thoughts that never dies.

Ah! little they think who mark the while,
The pageant group'd in that stately aisle
In the midst of pomp, how dark and sad
Is the lone heart it is meant to glad.

Cold, icy cold, is her pulseless breast,
As the ocean-pearls that on it rest;
Scarcely it vibrates till all is said,
'Tis o'er, but her spirit is quenched and fled.
Plumstead-place.

C M. W.

THE USEFUL MAN.

AN AMERICAN CHARACTER.-BY JAMES HALL.

Jemmy Gossamer was the only son of a reputable tradesman, who grew rich by his skill and industry in his business, and who might, with propriety, be said to have been a man of inost excellent habits, for he was an eminent tailor. Perhaps I should have said a men's mercer, for it is a curious trait of human nature, that even those who are not too proud to labour, are often too vain to be called by their right names. In our republican country, and in an age when the operative classes are really achieving the proudest triumphs' which adorn the page of history, it is singular to see the ambitious artifices, by which common occupations are attempted to be concealed under dignified names. Formerly a shoemaker was content to be called cobbler, but now he is elevated into a cordwainer; a tinker is a tin-plate worker; and one half the blacksmiths in the country have the title of engineer. So let it be a name costs nothing, and does nobody any harm. But old Gossamer was one of those who cared very little what people called him, provided they called often, and were punctual in the payment of their bills. He sat on his shop-board from morning till night, and worked like a man—or, more properly speaking, like the ninth part of a man,-from the expiration of his apprenticeship, to the age of sixty-five. He grew rich apace; and with wealth came a train of honors. He was made a bank director, a member of the city councils, and president of a fire company; but so far from being seduced by these distinguished marks of public favor, he continued to flourish his scissors to the last, with unwearied assiduity, and with a humility which the brightest smiles of fortune never for a moment subdued. He seemed to have taken the measure of his own mind, and to have cut his coat according to his cloth.

It is a curious law of nature, or of society, that a father who reaps an abundant harvest of this world's prosperity, by means of his own honest exertions, is most usually very careful to prevent his son from following his example. It is not uncommon to see men spending long lives of usefulness and