less years, I ventured near the great bell, ❘ day may bring forth," Prov. xxvii. 1. when it stood with its mouth uppermost, not knowing that the ringers were below. All at once it was pulled off and oh! with what a murderous plunge it swung round, within a few inches of my head. The heavy timbers creaked with the fearful strain, and the very wind that smote me made me tremble. Never, again, did I venture on so near an acquaintance with the great bell. Soon after the great bell was hung in the belfry, a fire took place below. Some said it was an accident; but others looked mysteriously, and whispered their misgivings of foul play on the part of the ringers of the neighbouring parish. The matter was never decided, and it is too late to settle it now. The fire was happily extinguished: had the tower been burned down, great would have been the fall of the great bell. Many a time have I sat in the churchyard on a tombstone, listening to the voice of the great bell, when the busy ringers, stripped to their shirts, have been making merry music, testing their skill and strength in a peal of treble bob majors and gransire cators. Some of these feats have been legibly recorded on wooden tablets in letters of gold-trophies of tintinnabular achievements which may yet be seen suspended against the walls. When the vicar's daughter-she was the friend of the poor, and the nurse of the sick, and every body loved herwhen she was married, "Merrily, merrily rung the bells- but the great bell beat them all, right nobly doing its duty. That was a happy time for some, but a doleful day with many; for it took away one who was the joy of her father's house, the light and joy of the neighbourhood around her. I said that the great bell right nobly did its duty; but for all that, the aged people in the almshouses, with tears in their eyes, declared that the sound it made was fitter for a funeral than for a marriage. Every one heard the great bell when the good old vicar died, for it lifted up its voice aloud, and made many weep. A father and a friend was departed; a guide and a comforter was taken away; a shining light was extinguished. The sound of the great bell smote mournfully on the ear, and it seemed to speak audibly to the strong : "Boast not thyself of to-morrow; for thou knowest not what a To such as had bound up their lives in that of their aged minister: "Cease ye from man, whose breath is in his nostrils: for wherein is he to be accounted of?" Isa. ii. 22. And to all: "Man that is born of a woman is of few days, and full of trouble. He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down: he fleeth also as a shadow, and continueth not," Job xiv. 1, 2. I might speak of many beside the vicar for whom the great bell has swung to and fro, knolling their knell with solemn sound; for death has been busy with his freehold, the churchyard, digging and delving, and piling up the green sods, and raising sculptured stones to record his achievements. Death called away Arrowsmith the infidel, and the blaspheming blacksmith that feared neither God nor man, and old grey-headed Hollins the sexton. Hollins, with a light spirit, had earthed up many, and cracked his jokes upon their mouldering bones, before he himself was laid in the ground by another. He had grown grey among the graves, a jester at holy things to the last; but death snatched the ready joke from his lips, and put terror in his heart. Loth should I be to tell all that I know of his latter hours. "There is no peace unto the wicked," Isa. xlviii. 22. He died, and I heard the toll Of the great solemn bell: Is gone to heaven or hell." Well do I remember the loud alarm that the great bell spread among us when a threatening foe was expected to attack our shores. The giant of the belfry, with brazen lungs and iron tongue, shouted aloud, calling on English hearts and hands to defend their homes, their hearths, and their native land. The great bell called up the apprehensions of the weak, and the energies of the strong. Fear trembled, dismay ran to and fro, despondency wrung her hands, while courage and self-possession stood up in their strength, with all the majesty of stern determination. It was a trying time: the timid turned pale, and the bold ran to their weapons, holding "hard the breath," and "stretching the nostril wide :"-but it was a false alarm, and the great bell ceased its clamour. The great bell rang outrageously to celebrate the battles of the Nile, and Copenhagen, and Trafalgar, and Navarino, and the battle of all battles-Waterloo. On these occasions, people looked up towards the belfry, as if they almost expected the spire to topple over with the clamour. They thought of the victory and the national glory, but not of the dead and the dying-of the widow and the orphan. The great bell made noise enough, but the clapper did not seem to me to strike the side fairly; the sounds were discordant in my ears; they did not reach me as the frank and free exul tation of a generous heart, but more like the uproarious clamour of a blustering bully, out-brawling his hectoring companions. Times without number have I heard the music of the great bell, but not soon shall I forget that day of general rejoicing when it outdid itself in pouring forth a peal of energetic harmony in the celebration of peace. We had suffered enough on account of war! We had paid dearly for our victories; for where was the man or the woman, who had not lost a brother, a husband, or a friend? Oh, the sounds were glorious! They seemed to come from the skies, as though there was a belfry above; and I could have fancied that the angel Gabriel was bending from the battlements of heaven, at the command of his Almighty Master, to proclaim peace and goodwill to the inhabitants of the earth. The voice of the great bell has by turns gladdened the heart, and saddened the spirit of many; now publishing the joy or sorrow of a family or a neighbourhood, and now proclaiming a nation's weal or woe. It has sounded a dirge when lifeless monarchs have been heralded in state to the sumptuous mausoleum Where beauty, youth, and power, and fame, and it has boomed from the belfry when the dust of a pauper has been committed to the ground. The other bells were more manageable; but strong were the arms and athletic the frames of the ringers of the great bell of St. Michael's tower. The great bell plays, or appears to play, different characters-mourning or making merry, as the case may require. It is a herald in war and peace, a preacher on the sabbath, a brawling rioter at the wake, and chief mourner at a funeral. I never hear its ponderous voice as I walk round the churchyard, without musing on the past, the present, and the future; and I never mount the belfry steps to gaze upon it, without living over again the seasons that are gone. How rapidly has my life passed away! My days appear "swifter than a weaver's shuttle." It may be that for distant years and ages the great bell may fling on the gale the joyful or mournful accents of its iron tongue, making either mirthful or melancholy music for the rejoicing or the desponding heart; but the time will come, yea, must come, when it will be heard no more, when it will no longer sound the funeral knell, nor join in the marriage peal. Not only bells, and towers, and churches, and the busy throng that people the world, and all created things, but time itself will be destroyed, for the word has gone forth-"And the angel which I saw stand upon the sea and upon the earth lifted up his hand to heaven, and sware by Him that liveth for ever and ever, who created heaven, and the things that therein are, and the earth, and the things that therein are, that there should be time no longer," Rev. x. 5, 6. Hark how clamorously the bells are yet ringing, and with what a full, solemn, and majestic voice the big bell joins the arresting chorus! The belfry shakes, and the spire is rocking with the deep-mouthed music. I said that fifty years had passed, but it is more, since the great bell was hung up where it is. It cries aloud to the old and the young, the sad and the joyous; but it cries louder to me than to all; for I was at the founding of it, with many who are now asleep beneath the green hillocks in the grave-yard. No wonder that its solemn sound should thrill through my very heart, for I am the last man alive who was present at the founding of the great bell. G. SCRIPTURE ILLUSTRATION. MUSIC AS A PART OF RELIGIOUS WORSHIP. "Then an herald cried aloud, To you it is commanded, O people, nations, and languages, that at what time ye hear the sound of the cornet, flute, harp, sackbut, psaltery, dulcimer, and all kinds of music, ye fall down and worship the golden image that Nebuchadnezzar the king hath set up," Dan. iii. 4, 5. INSTRUMENTAL music constituted an important part of religious rites among the ancient Chinese, and still continues to be heard, when an anniversary or some other occasion of interest adds festivity to worship, or calls for more than ordinary incense and prayer. The band at such times consists of eight performers, though there are rites and services wherein that number is not deemed necessary. The nature of the instruments to be used at different kinds of worship are set down, and the directions compose a part of the ritual. This suggests a reason why the instruments in the idolatrous choir of Nebuchadnezzar are so carefully enumerated. The herald who announced the summons repeated a passage from the ritual. This image, being a new object of adoration, it required a special set of rules as to the manner in which that adoration should be paid. The concert of the instruments then specified, was to bear a notable share in the sacrificial honours rendered to the golden image. The ladies represented in a Chinese picture, now before the writer, are obviously engaged in an act of this kind. An altar is reared, and consists of three distinct stories, each of which is ascended by a short flight of steps. A square capital on which the tablet rests may be considered as a fourth. The description speaks of four flights of steps, and so includes those that are seen just under the tablet. The height of this altar is stated to be ten cubits, and at its lowest story or settle twenty cubits square. An altar of such an elevation could not be ascended but by steps, which were indeed a part of its prescribed plan. The characters upon the tablet denote before and silk-worm, and seem to refer to the discovery of the use that might be made of its cocoon in the manufacture of garments. We have, therefore, in the picture referred to, a delineation of an ancient rite instituted in commemoration of the invention of spinning and weaving. And might we not guess, with some degree of plausi bility, that it was the cocoon of the silkworm which first suggested the idea of working up threads into cloth? This conjecture will best explain the words seen tsan, the silk-worm that goes before; for then it not only preceded man in the art of weaving, but was his guide and forerunner in the occupation. The name of the silk-worm being written upon the tablet, implies that it was the object of adoration; and the incense, music, bowing, and sacrificial observances were presented to it. A remarkable exemplification of what the apostle Paul says of the heathen, that they changed the truth of God into a lie, and worshipped and served the creature more than, or instead of, the Creator, who is blessed for ever, Rom. i. 25. The inventor, or the first person who suggested the employment of the silk in this way, may have had the first place in these honours; for a note appended to the picture says it was a sacrifice to the inventor, and leaves us to guess whether it was a man or the silk-worm. We are inclined to think that the latter was the object of worship, as we have ventured already to state. The mulberry tree, on which the silkworm feeds, seems to have been enrolled in the canon, as a thing worthy of religious honours. Food, or bread to strengthen man's heart, and wine that cheers the spirits, appear to have been treated with like acts of reverence and gratitude. The natural feelings, or rather perhaps tradition, told a man that he was under great obligations for his meat and drink and raiment; but such was the blindness of his mind, that he never imagined that they were due to the Lord of the Universe, the Proprietor of all things. But can we complain of the stupidity manifested by the heathen, and not blush at the thought, that amidst the brightness of these later days, some in this land worship relics, which are far more contemptible than the silk-worm or the mulberry tree? The name of Hwang-te, a king who, according to Chinese chronology, lived before the deluge, is mentioned in connexion with this sacrifice. From this we may infer, that the art of weaving was anterior to the catastrophe just mentioned, and that consequently Noah was in possession of this discovery when he entered the ark. The light in which we may regard many records in China is this, as hints at traditions of things that took place before the deluge. According to this assumption, silk-weaving may be reckoned among the antediluvian arts. On the right side of the altar, in the picture alluded to, there are three musicians furnished with instruments, and a fourth personage, who leads the strain with her voice. The first instrument is the flute. We find it mentioned in the list of Nebuchadnezzar's band, where its name seems to refer to the hissing which accompanies the sound. The second holds the bell. The third holds a frame, which contains nine copper or brass platters, which, upon being struck, emitted a pleasing sound. These platters are of different sizes, and consequently give out sounds which differ in their pitch. The writer has a set of these in his possession, with the stick which serves as a plectrum to call forth their tones. It is a bit of ivory upon the end of an elastie stick to promote freedom in the strokes, and, as a matter of course, clearness in the vibrations. Perhaps the symphonia, or "dulcimer," as it is translated, referred to an instrument of this kind. A lady in the back ground holds the castanets in her hand, which differ considerably from a modern specimen of this instrument, which is now hanging beside our Chinese bookcase. These consist only of three pieces of board, whereas the one in the picture referred to, seems to have half a dozen. Besides, both hands are employed by the lady, which is contrary to the modern practice, where one answers the purpose. A lady in the foreground holds a guitar, which is mentioned in Daniel, and called by our translators a harp. At the foot of the altar, two ladies are bowing with a sort of sceptre in their hands. This sceptre is the badge of the minister, and is a token not so much of his authority, as of his subjection to his master. The ladies, therefore, carry it not in honour of themselves, but as a mark of reverence to the object of their worship. On each side of these ladies there is a chafing-dish of flaming coals, as if fire itself was a kind of oblation, for nothing like a victim can be discovered to require the use of it. Fire is much used in the preparation of the silk, and the poor worms are killed by it. This may have induced the inventors of this rite to present a blazing pan among their oblations. But the chief worshipper is a lady, exhibited at the bottom of the picture. Her head is adorned by a curious coronet and pendants; two young maidens screen her head with elegant parasols, to intimate her princely dignity; a mat is spread for her to kneel on, and also for two of her attendants. This lady was of course high-priest in this sacrifice, and received a right of ministering in this office by inheritance. When a rite was instituted, it was customary to appoint a family to act as flamens, or special priests; that it might be maintained by the succession of parent and child for an indefinite time. This was a practice among the Romans, and had its origin in the nature of things. "And David and all Israel played before God with all their might, and with singing, and with harps, and with psalteries, and with timbrels, and with cymbals, and with trumpets," 1 Chron. xiii. 8. David delighted in music, and that led him to revive a very ancient custom, by appointing a band of singers and players upon instruments to attend upon the service of God. Our authority for saying that this was a very ancient custom, is derived from Chinese documents, of which we have given a short specimen in this chapter. In 1 Chron. xv. and xvi. we have an account of the pains which the king took to set the vocal and instrumental parts of the band in their proper order. For as he loved the worship of God, he was determined that it should have the best that art, skill, and arrangement could furnish. "And when the builders laid the foundation of the temple of the Lord, they set the priests in their apparel with trumpets, and the Levites the sons of Asaph with cymbals, to praise the Lord, after the ordinance of David king of Israel," Ezra iii. 10. It is here expressly said, that the appointment of a band, as an accompaniment to religious rites, was the act of the sweet singer of Isr Israel, who made this ordinance, not as a novel device of his own, we believe, but in conformity with a very ancient practice. G. T. L. NORTHERN REGIONS. Ar first sight it will, no doubt, appear to many persons, says Captain Beechey, that constant daylight must be a valuable acquisition in every country; but a little reflection will, I think, be sufficient to show that the reverse is really the case; and to satisfy a thinking mind, that we cannot overrate the blessings we derive from the wholesome alternation of labour and rest, which is, in a manner, forced upon us by the succession of day and night. It is impossible, by removing to a high latitude, not to witness the difficulty there is in the regulation of time; the proneness that is felt by the indefatigable and zealous to rivet themselves to their occupations, and by the indolent and procrastinating to postpone their duties, without being truly thankful for that allwise and merciful provision with which nature has endowed the more habitable portions of the globe. All nature seems to acknowledge the glorious sunshine, and the animated part of creation to set no bounds to its delight. Such a day was the 4th of June; and we felt most sensibly the change from the gloomy atmosphere of the open sea, to the cheerful glow that overhung the hills and placid surface of Magdalena Bay. Although surrounded by beds of snow and glaciers, with the thermometer scarcely above the freezing point, there was no sensation of cold. The various amphibious animals, the myriads of birds which had resorted to the place, seemed to enjoy, in the highest degree, the transition thus occasioned by a few bright hours of sunshine. From an early hour in the morning, until the period of rest returned, the shores around us reverberated with the merry cry of the little auk, willocks, divers, cormorants, gulls, and other aquatic birds; and wherever we went, groups of walruses basking in the sun mingled their playful roar with the husky bark of the seal. There was certainly no harmony in this strange din; but it was, at the least, gratifying to know that it arose from a demonstration of happy feelings. It was a pleasure of the same character as that which must have been experienced by every traveller who, on some fine bright evening in a tropical climate, has listened to the merry buzz of thousands of winged insects which immediately succeeds the setting of the sun. And here we cannot fail to notice the manner in which the great Author of nature has varied his dispensations. In the burning region of the torrid zone, the descent of the sun calls into action myriads of little beings which could not exist under the fierce glare of his meridian ray; whereas here, on the contrary, it is the signal for universal repose. This period of the day had no sooner arrived in Magdalena Bay than there was a stillness which bordered on the sublime-a stillness which was interrupted only by the bursting of an iceberg, or the report of some fragment of rock loosened from its hold. These sounds, indeed, which came booming over the placid surface of the bay, could hardly be considered interruptions to the general silence; for, speedily dying away in the distance, they left behind a stillness even more profound than before. In the day-time the presence of our expedition was not disregarded. The birds shunned us in their flight; and every noise which was occasionally made, sounding strange to the place, sent to a greater distance the seagulls that were fishing among the rocks, and kept on the alert whole herds of animals, many of which would otherwise have been lost in sleep; causing them to raise their heads when any thing fell upon our deck, and to cast a searching look over the bay, as if to inquire whence so unusual a disturbance proceeded. HINTS ON HEALTH, FOUNDED ON PHYSIOLOGICAL FACTS. No. XII. THE few hints now given may suffice to evidence and illustrate the fact, that although man brings with him into the world the seeds of disease and death-is at best "of few days" and is "full of trouble," his term may yet farther be greatly abbreviated and much embittered, by the violation of those laws in accordance with which his corporeal organs are constructed, and which regulate their functions. It is quite obvious, that such laws must constitute the only basis of any intelligible and efficient rules for the preservation of health. Medical science, taking that term in its largest acceptation, can never advance towards perfection, or even substantially improve, but in the degree in which it approximates to the more fixed sciences. A geometrician well knows, that if the terms of any problem or proposition were submitted separately to any number of individuals in Europe, possessing a competent knowledge of geometry, the result at which each individual would arrive would be precisely the same. It is not so in the present state of our knowledge, with regard to the ever-varying phenomena of disease, and the agencies which may be employed for their relief and removal. These embrace subjects so multiform and so complex, that it is in many cases very difficult to reduce them to any fixed principles at all. Hence the proverbial diversity of medical opinion. Hence, too, the deference usually and justly |