spot," says his amiable and intelligent biographer, Lord Teignmouth, "he returned every evening after sunset, and in the morning rose so early as to reach his apartments in town, by walking, and at the first appearance of dawn. The intervening period of each morning, until the opening of court, was regularly allotted and applied to distinct studies." At this time, his hour of rising used to be between three and four. During the vacation of the court he was equally occupied. Writing from Crishna, his vacation residence, in 1787, he says, "We are in love with this pastoral cottage; but though these three months are called a vacation, yet I have no vacant hours. It rarely happens that favorite studies are closely connected with the strict discharge of our duty, as mine happily are: even in this cottage I am assisting the court by studying Arabic and Sanscrit, and have now rendered it an impossibility for the Mahometan or Hindoo lawyers to impose upon us with erroneous opinions." It was these constant exertions, in truth, that gave its chief enjoyment to his life. "I never was happy," he says in this very letter, "till I was settled in India."

This eminent and admirable man, however, at last fell a sacrifice to his zeal in the discharge of his duty; and if it has been accounted a befitting fate for a great captain to die in the field of battle, surely his is to be deemed an equally appropriate and a far more enviable lot who, after a life, whether of many or of few years, in which he has done enough for his fame, sinks to his rest in the full brightness of a career made glorious by many peaceful triumphs. The greatest literary achievement of Sir William Jones was his last-the digest he undertook to superintend of a complete body of Hindoo and Mahometan jurisprudence.

It was by a persevering observance of a few simple maxims that Sir William Jones was principally enabled to accomplish what he did. One of these, as we have already mentioned, was never to neglect an opportunity of improvement: another was, that whatever had been attained was attainable by him, and that, therefore, the real or supposed difficulties of any pursuit formed no reason why he should not engage in it, and with perfect confidence of success. "It was also," Lord Teign

mouth tells us, 66 a fixed principle with him, from which he never voluntarily deviated, not to be deterred, by any difficulties which were surmountable, from prosecuting to a successful termination what he had once deliberately undertaken." "But what appears to me," adds his Lordship, "more particularly to have enabled him to employ his talents so much to his own and the public advantage, was the regular allotment of his time to particular occupations, and a scrupulous adherence to the distribution which he had fixed: hence all his studies were pursued without interruption or confusion. Nor can I omit remarking the candour and complacency with which he gave his attention to all persons, of whatever quality, talents, or education: he justly concluded that curious or important information might be gained even from the illiterate; and, whatever it was to be obtained, he sought and seized it." By these methods it was that he accumulated that vast mass of knowledge, and enabled himself to accomplish those profound and extended labors, which remain, even now that he is dead, for the benefit of us who live, and of those who are to come after us. This is truly to make a short life long-to exist, in spite of death, for unnumbered generations.

CIRCLE OF THE SCIENCES WITH SUITABLE REFLECTIONS.

THE EARTH.

The circumference of this globe is computed to be 25,000 miles, and it revolves once on its axis in 24 hours, consequently any one spot on it, is carried round 25,000 miles in that space of time, which is upwards of 1040 miles in an hour, or 173 miles in one minute! Vast as this may seem, and in comparison of which the utmost degree of velocity which man has been able to produce by the most ingenious contrivances, sinks almost into nothing; yet when put in competition with the amazing velocity of the earth in its orbit, this of its diurnal revolution on its axis, (though indeed astonishingly great) is trifling and insignificant.

The distance of the sun from the earth is 195,060,000 miles, which being the radius of the earth's orbit, we shall have its diameter, 390,000,000 miles, and consequently the circumference 1225,000,000. Now as the earth revolves round the sun once in 365 days-it would travel (dividing 1225,000,000 by 365) about 3,369,000 miles in one day, or 140,000 in an hour. By this calculation we shall find that the earth is whirled through the immense regions of space, at the amazing, the inconceivable volocity of 2330 miles in a single minute of time!

Astonishing as this fact is, yet when compared with those things which have come more immediately under our observation, it is by no means irreconcileable. Those who know with what rapidity the blood is driven from the heart to the extremities of the human system, and reflect that this rapidity is no greater than is actually necessary for the health and support of the body, may conceive with what velocity such vast bodies as this and other surrounding worlds must be impelled in their course, in order that they, as the several various members which constitute the great system of nature, may be kept in their respective spheres, in a state of health, regularity and order.-For, as an ingenious poet expresses himself:

"Constant rotation of th' unwearied wheel,
That nature rides upon, maintains her health,
Her beauty, her fertility.-She dreads

An instant's pause, and lives but while she moves."

POETRY.

STANZAS

BY MISS MARY ANNE BROWNE.

Come to the fields and woods!
The spring is breathing o'er the land
The flowers within the solitudes

Rise up, a beauteous band.
The hearth, the hot hearth scorn;

Come to the fields by day, by night—
By day fair flowers the earth adorn,
And stars the heavens by night;
Come, for all is soft and fair:
The power of God is present there.

"He went over the brook, Kedron, with his disciples."-St. John.

The Vale of thy Brook, of Life's valley so drear,
Meet emblem, dark Kedron, might be,

As it swelled in its hurried and horrid career
To the depths of a desolate sea:

Unceasingly fed with the blood of the slain

From the Temple's far height was its flow,

Till it seemed like some wounded and wandering vein
That was lost in the distance below.

There David went over, and wept as he went;
There his Son in his sonow passed o'er,
And his garments were dipt in its crimson descent,
Like a warrior's wading in gore;

And wrapt in forbodings of anguish and wo,
It heightened that vision of pain,

When the blood of a mightier Victim should flow
And the Lamb of the promise be slain.

Now, Kedron, for ages thy course has been dried,
And thy sands are unmarked with a stain,
Since the Victim ordained from eternity died
And the Lamb of the promise was slain;
The pilgrim now passes dry-shod o'er thy bed,
And the thought to his spirit may lay,

He who drank of the brook hath re-lifted his head,
And hath borne our transgressions away!

ON THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL.

Thron'd on eternity-in realms of light
Unpierc'd by man's corporeal eye,
Sits tranquil Immortality;

And there shall veil her face from mortal sight,

Till time's swift pinion'd hours no more their courses keep. Friend of the virtuous-terror of the bad,

"T is her's to make the upright bosom glad,

And snatch from Vice the hope, that Death's an endless sleep.

Oh you! who grasp Heaven's bolts with daring hand, O'erturn her altars, and her laws withstand, To reign detested tyrants through the land; Tremble-for you have souls that are immortal; And you, their hapless victims are below,

On whom God deigns his pitying eye to throw, Poor wandering pilgrims through this world of wo, Be comforted-for you, too, are immortal

Upon the mountain's distant head,
With trackless snows forever white,
Where all is still, and cold, and dead,
Late shines the day's departing light

"Tis thus, from warm and kindly hearts
And eyes were generous meanings burn,
Earliest the light of life departs,
But lingers with the cold and stern.