The Sun.
London, England, 1849-05-26 00:00:00

ILLUSTRATIONS.

THE BIBLE.
Tecfiltsbank's very instructive series of illustrations,
113ottle," represented the downward career of
kilts liaPpy family. Mr. George Measom here pre-
ia.; us with six illustrations similar in idea, but
hut"kilar insomuch as they pourtray a progres9ive
j 4 644 of a retrogressive course. This work exhibits,
th:tead. of the vicious influence of the " Bottle,"
not
h,v• irtuous efficacy of the " Bible." We do
of teuse to consider the pictorial merits
less work ; we welcome it for the happy
b°4 it teaches. The price, ls., is low enough to
11,7 it admittance into many a humble roof, where,
stit„e4, ure hours, on Sundays especially, it may con-
"e as interesting and profitable amusement for
Urle and old.

THE DYING GIRL.
(From the Christian Life. By Montgomery.)
"'scribed to Philip Rose, Esq.. the founder of the
Hospital for Consumption.)
gain is gone down while it was yet day."—Jer. xv. 9.

" CONSUMPTION.
A beauty clothes her hectic cheek,
A radiance fills that sunken eye,
Ittat when her mellow'd accents speak
They make the sadden'd hearer sigh;
Th *softer sink they in their cadence far
ah autumn's dying tone beneath some mournful star.
TleY bore her to that healthful isle
Whose rocks of terraced verdure rise
And catch the morn's celestial smile,
Ali Responsive to the greeting skies;
1110 Titinly prophesied, the island breeze
eld freshen her white cheek, and waft away disease.
" But there she sicken'd, day by day,
In shrinking paleness, like a flower,
'Let from her glance there shined a ray
kith Of almost supernat'ral power ;
;Th.." such clear brightness did her eyeballs roll,
through them fancy saw the lustre of the soul.
tt
"er mother too, and far-off home,
Her plaintive heart in secret cried,
And backward long'd her soul to roam,
Since in the churchyard, side by side,
Ek`_'sder the green turf where loved sisters lay,
Would her dust might wait the awful Judgment-day.
" And they behold her once again
In her own room, with placid brow;
50..1251e, you see each azure vein
a?.eander through her beauty now:
01.t7&, like a pulse of rosy light at even,
to her faded cheek a crimson flush is given.
'` Seldom she sighs, but veils within
Much that would grieve fond Lore to know,
And when some pensive tears begin
Safe . She tries to check their overflow;
in the arms of Jesu rests her soul,
Nor
"es the early grave with gloom the mind control.
Net for herself, but for the heart
Of love parental she could weep;
And often in her dreams will start,
A And make some watching gazer weep,
A 127,4 faintly through her lips there steals a word,—
°hi my mother dear!' is like low music heard.
"She dies,—as beauty ever dies
When sad consumption finds a tomb;
With brilliance in her deep- s et eyes,
~, And on her face a healthless bloom;
o harsh transition, but a soft decay,
'lite dream-born tones of night, that melt by dawn away.
"And now the dying scenes advance
Nearer and nearer to the goal.
For death gleams in that deep,u'd glance
Betray the egress of the soul;
b Solemn she is, but no complaining sigh
're3ks from a burden'd heart, to think ber youth must
die.
They wheel her round each garden-walk
`Where oft her lisping childhood play'd,
And loved to hear the old nurse talk,
And soothe her when she seem'il afraid,
%,While danced her ringlets as she prattled on,
'mere playful than the birds she loved to gala upon.
" She looks as they alone who feel
The lasi of earth before them lies,
While o'er them soften'd mem'ries steal
b Which melt the heart into the eyes,—
urs tree and turret, woods and uplands, all
as.f
gclt. to the dying girl her childish past recall !
" Dream-like the hush of twilight floats
Veiling the lilac bowers around;
While in the air melodious notes
„,„ Of soft dejection sweetly sound.
landscape, like a conscious mourner, seems
" lie in brooding shade, and sadden as it dreams.
11-Olvs to her chamber back return'd,
Before the casement calm reclined,
lust as the broad horizon burn'd
With the last blush day left behind—
her eTe Was center'd on the dying sun,
Ing like feeble youth, before life's course is run.
" Rush'd is the breezeless air, and deep
The awe around each mourner stealing;
idend o'er her form, but do not weep,—
A Death is too grand for otitaard feeling!
As
sinks the sun beneath yon golden sea,
ntilla her spirit back to God's' eternity.