to murmur, in childish weakness, 'I was Napoleon; now I am nothing— my strength, my faculties forsake me.' Had he possessed the true power, would he have felt and spoken thus? No. He would have touched the barren rocks of St. Helena into verdure, made them bloom as an Edenturned the lonely isle into an enrapturing Patmos, and made the monotonous billows, as they broke on the shore, chant unearthly music to his all-conquering soul. The true hero,— 'When he falls, writes VICI on his shield." Dr. David Thomas. "The end of those things is death."-Rom. vi. 21. The Roman epicure, buffoon, and emperor, Heliogabalus, at a banquet once caused violets and roses to be showered down upon the guests in such quantities, that a number of them, being unable to extricate themselves, were suffocated in flowers. A striking emblem of those who give themselves up to worldly or sinful pleasure. The flowery delights in which they revel become at length the means of their destruction, and the votary of pleasure awakes at length from his idle dream, to find, when too late, that he has no power to escape from the deceitful snare. Leaving us an example, that ye should follow His steps: who did no sin."-1 Pet. ii. 21, 22. "If we had had a picture of Christ, we might have worshipped it; or His disciples might think they were being like Him if they wore their hair as He did, or dressed as He did, or wore their beard as He did. But now we know we are not like Him unless we feel like Him, do like Him, and think like Him. He has left us, not His picture, not the coat or the sandals that He wore, not a lock of hair, but something more precious. He left us His example, His beautiful example, at twelve years old. "Gently His mother took Him by the hand and led Him towards their humble home. Meekly and quietly He walked by her side, perhaps now and then dropping a word about the great subjects He had been talking about with the doctors. "Will a boy love to go up to the house of God and listen to the teachings of His word, and hear about the great kingdom and glory of God? Yes, if he is like Jesus. "Will a boy who knows more about some things than even his mother, be ready to obey her, and love and honour her? Yes, if he is like Jesus. "Will a boy who can converse with great and learned men, and even astonish them, be willing to be subject to his mother, and be to her a kind and dutiful child? Yes, if he is like Jesus Christ, our pattern, he will." -Dr. Todd. MEN OF THE MONTH. BY COUSIN WILLIAM. EVERY young person ought to feel an interest in all that pertains to wood-engraving, for it is to this art that we owe the pictorial attractions of our periodical literature. What an outcry would be raised if a single number of the Bible Class Magazine were to appear without an illustration! Yet such would be an absolute necessity of the case but for the craft of the wood-engraver, for drawings on steel are far too expensive for our penny literature, except at rare and distant intervals. to nature, and of marking out a path which succeeding artists have been wise enough to follow. Like the distinguished optician whose career was briefly sketched in the Magazine for June, Bewick was born in an humble condition of life. His birthplace was an humble cottage belonging to the village of Cherryburn, near Newcastle-on-Tyne, and where Bewick's father obtained a moderate livelihood by renting a small colliery. Young Thomas was in due time sent to an excellent day school on the opposite bank of the Tyne, and there received a plain English education, which was all that ever fell to his lot. Reading, writing, and arithmetic he seems to have learned, and learned thoroughly; and it would be well if all those who are privi There are few of the arts in which more remarkable progress has been made during the present century than in that of pictorial illustration. I do not mean to institute a comparison between particular productions of ancient and modern skill, for some of the old "line engravings" will perhaps never be excelled.leged to take a wider range of study But the advance has been in placing within the reach of all classes that which was once the exclusive privilege of the rich, and this great boon has been secured by improvements in engraving on wood. Compare the illustrations which adorn the present volume of this Magazine with those which decorated the old editions of Watts's "Divine and Moral Songs," such as our fathers and mothers conned and prized in their school days, and mark the difference. This advance is due in no small degree to the impulse given to woodengraving by the labours of a somewhat remarkable man, THOMAS BEWICK, whose birth dates as far back as the month of August, 1753. His was the rare merit of being true were equally careful to lay a solid foundation by acquiring an accurate knowledge of these indispensable branches of learning. School days ended, the lad, having shown a decided taste for drawing, was apprenticed by his father to a Mr. Beilby, an engraver at Newcastle. This gentleman engraved both copper plates for books and brass plates for doors; but it was not until after young Bewick had entered his service that he engaged in wood-work. In thus starting in life, Bewick had two great advantages. His natural taste for drawing was encouraged instead of being repressed, and he was placed in a position where the exercise of his talents would provide him with the means of living. How different the posi- | deep love for, and an intelligent acquaintance with, rural scenes and subjects, and he desired to produce something which should foster similar tastes in the young, by the help of truthful and graphic illustrations, very different from the wretched caricatures which prevailed at the time. Mr. Beilby furnished the letter-press, composed chiefly during the intervals of business, his partner aiding him with the results of his reading and observation, and plying his graver often until late in the night. Their talent and industry were rewarded with immediate and gratifying success. Three editions of the work were sold in as many years, and its popularity was permanent as well as general. tion of such rising geniuses as Kirke White, condemned to toil in a lawyer's office! or Handel, forbidden to touch a musical instrument! Yet it is none the less creditable to the youth that he made good use of these, his only advantages, in early life. How frugally he lived during his apprenticeship may be gathered from the recorded fact that his lodgings cost him ninepence a week, and that he received a brown loaf weekly from his home at Cherryburn. Almost before his term had expired he had given some indications of his future eminence. He invented a new kind of graver, and received from the Society for the Encouragement of Arts and Manufactures a premium for the excellence of a woodcut which he executed about the year 1775. It was entitled, "The Huntsman and the Old Hound," and appeared in an edition of Gay's "Fables," in 1779. Soon after this, Bewick entered into partnership with his old employer at Newcastle. He now steadily devoted himself to the practice of wood-engraving. Gay's "Fables," above mentioned, were followed by a volume of "Select Fables," and both were illustrated by our artist, whose pay for the cuts of the latter work was nine shillings each-a most inadequate sum, and one which would have proved quite insufficient for a person of less frugal and provident habits. About the autumn of 1785 Mr. Bewick, in conjunction with his partner, began to carry out a longcherished scheme, that of preparing This result led to the preparation of a "History of British Birds," the first volume of which was published in 1797. The second volume was executed entirely by Bewick, and may be regarded as his greatest work. He there exhibits those excellences of style which have never been surpassed, perhaps not even equalled. The marvellous truthfulness of the figures, and the humour and originality of the tailpieces appended to the different chapters, place him at the head of the designers and woodengravers. His skill could have availed him little if it had not been guided by careful and accurate observation of nature, and Thomas Bewick is one of numberless instances of the value of an educated eye. Our engraver steadily pursued his course, industrious and persevering during his working hours, and keenly observant of the beauties of the world around him during his seasons THADY D'ARCY: A STORY OF IRISH LIFE. of leisure. He struck out a path for himself, pursued it vigorously, resisted the temptations to speculation and extravagance which an increasing income always brings, and thus at length acquired an honourable competence. Contented in mind, and as simple in his tastes as when a poorer man, Bewick spent his later years in the neighbourhood in which the most of his life had been passed, 175 and at length died at his house in Gateshead, on the 8th of November, 1818, at the age of seventy-five. We have had a good many treatises of late on "the way to get on," "how to succeed in business," and so forth; but I believe the true principles of commercial success are better exemplified in a career like that of Bewick the engraver than by a dozen elaborate commentaries. BY JEANIE SELINA DAMMAST (REEVES), AUTHOR OF ST. MARY'S CONVENT," ETC. CHAPTER VIII. S soon as the doctor had given leave for the removal of the invalid, Mr. D'Arcy informed Father Mulcahey that he had been invited to pay a visit to Glenbrook, and added that his friend would feel very much if he did not go with him, he was now so much accustomed to his presence. Father Mulcahey made no objection to the arrangement, as the young priest, who had been his assistant since Thaddeus had been with Mr. Grady, had managed to make himself very useful to him, and he was quite satisfied that he should remain some time longer to do duty in Father D'Arcy's place; "Only mind," he added, after he had given his consent, "and don't neglect the grand opportunity you have now of converting them unfortunate Protestants. Why, man, it'll be a feather in your cap for ever and a day if you bring them into the bosom of the true church; and above all don't forget to send me a five-gallon cask of the rale thing when you pass through Galway, for the stuff they sell here is enough to poison a man; it's all fire, and no nourishment." "I'll not forget," said Thaddeus, shaking hands with him; and, relieved at not being further questioned, he was soon on his way to his mother's cottage. How different was the tall, manly form that ascended the hill, from the light, active figure that had come bounding down it the evening of "the praichin""! and how strangely different were the thoughts of his heart from the wild, flighty visions that had flitted through his mind on that memorable evening! It seemed as if a chasm had suddenly opened, completely separating him from the past-from what he now was, and what he had been; the whole tenor of his thoughts was changed, the whole course of his life altered, and now his difficulty was how to announce the fact to those who were so utterly unsuspicious of such a wonderful change in his destiny. Mr. Grady had advised that the discovery of his altered opinions should not be made until he had left Ballinadarna, and in pursuance of this advice Thaddeus had, as we have seen, taken leave of Father Mulcahey without informing him that he would not again resume his duties as his curate; but as he walked slowly along, pondering on the great change in his life, he felt that it would be a more difficult task to leave his mother and sister without some intimation of his intention never to return to Ballinadarna in the character of a Roman Catholic priest; and yet he knew that it would be wiser to write and break the intelligence to them gently, than to startle them abruptly from all their settled views of his position. Musing thus, he was not aware that he had come quite close to his mother's cottage, which stood high above the road, from which it was separated by a quickset hedge, until a shower of blossoms fell on his head, and looking up, he saw the mirthful face and laughing blue eyes of Ellen peeping over the hedge. "Ah, Miss Frolic, is that you?" he said, rousing himself from his reverie, and hastening to the little gate, which Ellen had already reached. "What were you thinking so intently upon ?" she asked, as he came up; "you looked as grave as if the weight of the whole world were on your shoulders." "How inquisitive we are this evening!" said her brother, laughing, although after rather a constrained fashion. "Suppose I told you that I was thinking of you, what would you say?" "Thinking of me?" cried Ellen, rather alarmed. "Have I done anything wrong, Thaddeus, that you looked so sober about it?" Her brother laughed out heartily at this idea, and Ellen darted into the house, exclaiming, "I declare you are as bad as ever, Thaddeus; |