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white, 2 steel, 5 white, 3 steel, 1 white, 1 steel, 8 green, 4 glass +. 36th Round. + 4 green, 3 steel, 2 green, 1 steel, 7 white, 4 steel, 3 white, 1 steel, 3 green, 1 steel, 3 white, 2 steel, 3 white, 4 steel, 2 white, 1 steel, 8 green, 4 glass +

37th Round.+ 6 green, 1 steel, 3 green, 1 steel, 7 white, 4 steel 2 white, 1 steel, 3 green, 1 steel, 2 white, 4 steel, 1 white, 1 steel, 7 white, 1 steel, 8 green, 2 glass, 1 green +.

38th Round.+4 green, 2 steel, 5 green, 1 steel, 7 white, 3 steel, 2 white, 1 steel, 3 green, 1 steel, 2 white, 3 steel, 1 white, 4 steel, 5 white, 1 steel, 11 green +. 39th Round.+ 2 green, 2 steel, 8 green, 1 steel, 7 white, 3 steel, 1 white, 1 steel, 3 green, 1 steel, 2 white, 4 steel, 2 white, 5 steel, 2 white, 1 steel, green, 2 glass, 6 green +.

40th Round.- + 5 green, steel, 4 green, 2 steel, 10 white, 1 steel, 3 green, 1 steel, 2 white, 4 steel, 2 white, 5 steel, 2 white, 1 steel, 1 green, 4 glass, 5 green +. 41st Round+ 3 green, 2 steel, 4 white, 1 steel, 4 green, 4 steel, 7 white, 1 steel, 4 green, 1 steel, 2 white, 4 steel, 2 white, 4 steel, 2 white, 1 steel, 1 green, 4 glass, 5 green +.

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42nd Round. +2 green, 1 steel, 7 white, 1 steel, 2 green, 1 steel, 4 green, 2 steel, 5 white, 1 steel, 5 green, 1 steel, 2

white, 3 steel, 5

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green, 1 steel, 13 white, 1 steel, 5 green, 2 glass, 1 green +

45th Round.+ 1 green, 1 steel, 3 white, 4 steel, 2 white, 2 steel, 4 white, 1 steel, 6 green, 1 steel, 9 green, 14 steel, 4 green, 4 glass +.

46th Round.- +1 green, 1 steel, 2 white, 6 steel, 1 white, I steel, 5 white, 1 steel, 3 green, 2 steel, 2 green, 1 steel, 26 green, 4 glass +.

47th Round. +1 green, 1 steel, 5 white, 2 steel, 1 white, 3 steel, 4 white, 1 steel, 3 green, 1 steel, green, 1 steel, 1 green, 1 steel, 27 green, 2 glass, 1 green +. 48th Round.+ 1 green, 1 steel, 7 white, 1 steel, 1 white, 4 steel, 2 white, 1 steel, 4 green, 3 steel, 31 green +.

8

49th Round.+ 1 green, 1 steel, 6 white, 2 steel, 2 white, 2 steel, 3 white, 1 steel, 5 green, 1 steel, 4 green, 2 glass, green, * twice; 2 glass, 6 green +. 50th Round.-+ 2 green, 1 steel, 4 white, 3 steel, 6 white, 1 steel, 5 green, 1 steel, 4 green, 4 glass, 6 green, twice; 4 glass, 5 green +.

51st Round.- + white, 3 steel, 6 white, steel, 2 green, 2 steel, 5

POINT-LACE STITCHES, BY MRS. PULLAN. (See Instructions, page 380, Vol. I, New Series.)

green, 1 steel, 3 1 steel, 1 green, 1 green, 4 glass,

* twice;

6 green, 4 glass, 5 green

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+.

52nd Round. +2 green, 1 steel, 2 white, 3 steel, white, 1 steel, 2 green, 4 steel, 7 green, 2 glass, * green, 2 glass, * twice; 6 green +.

53rd Round. +2 green, 1 steel, 2 white, 2 steel, 5 white, 2 steel, 5 green, 2 steel, 35 green +.

54th Round. +2 green, 1 steel, 1 white, 1 steel, 5 white, 2 steel, green, 2 glass, * 4 times,

1

8 green, 2 glass, 1 green +.

55th Round. +2 green, 1 steel, 6 white, 1 steel, 2

green, 4 glass +. 56th Round.+ 2 green, 1 steel, 3 white, 3 steel, 3 green, 4 glass, 6 green, 4 times, 4 glass. 57th Round.

* 4 glass, 6 green, * 4 times;

--

2 green, 4 steel, 7 green, * 2 glass, 8 green, 4 times; 2 glass, 1 green +.

Do one round of Sc with the green, and 22 stitches more; this will be the proper centre of one side of the purse, and will throw the white spots equally on both sides of the beads. Join on the white silk with beads threaded on, and work from this centre backwards and forwards thus.

1st Round.-5 Ch, (with a bead dropped on every one,) Miss 3, Sc in the fourth.

2nd and all succeeding Rounds.-5 Ch, Sc under chain of last row. At the end, after Sc under the last loop, 5 Ch, Te to make the line even. Do about 16 rows of this work, and sew on the top, the slip being in the middle of one side. Join up the end with a row of Sc, taking two stitches together. Add the fringe, which may be either bought or made.

COLONEL JAMES GARDINER. A SUDDEN and permanent change from wrong principles and habits to their opposite, has been seldom more strongly exhibited than in the case of the subject of this sketch. He was a native of Linlithgowshire, Scotland, and born on the 10th of January, 1688. The military life to which he was destined, early surrounded him with its temptations, and oppressed him by its bereavements. His father fell during a long campaign in Germany; an uncle at the battle of Steinkirk; and his eldest brother, at the siege of Namur, on the day that he completed his sixteenth

year.

The mother of James Gardiner was a woman of a pious and tender spirit. Under the weight of her afflictions, she strove, with peculiar earnestness, to cultivate the intellect of her son, and to impress his heart with religious sensibilities. She placed him at the best school in Linlithgow, where his progress in study, especially in the languages, was gratifying to his teachers and to herself. Yet his feelings received no upward direction, and her pious precepts took no root in his volatile

nature. She would fain by tender persuasion and remonstrance have withdrawn him from the hazards of a military life. But his preference for the profession of his father was uncontrollable; and so precocious were his belligerent tastes, that he was engaged in three duels, ere he attained the stature of a man. In one of these he received a deep wound in the face, whose scar he bore to his grave. He first served as a cadet, and at the early age of fourteen, he was promoted to an ensign's commission in a Scottish regiment engaged in the war with Holland.

During the battle of Ramillies, in the reign of Queen Anne, he performed many feats of valour. While rallying his men to a desperate attack on the French, who were posted in the church-yard of Ramillies, and while the most blasphemous oaths trembled on his tongue, he received a bullet in his mouth, which passed out through his neck, and in a state of racking anguish lay on the field of battle the whole night, covered with his own blood, and surrounded by the dying. But neither the tortures of a wound, inflamed by neglect and improper treatment, nor the depression of sickness, nor yet his deliverance, impressed his heart, or awakened it to reflection. At his recovery he returned to his vices, and plunged into every course of shameless dissipation. Yet in this life of licentiousness he realized no happiness; and when his gay friends were once congratulating him on his successes and felicity, he happened to cast his eyes upon a dog that entered the room, and could not forbear groaning inwardly, and wishing, "Oh, that I were that dog!"

In this course he continued till past the thirtieth year of his age, when he was reclaimed by a wonderful interposition of Divine power. In the midst of a career of vice, his mind became so suddenly and deeply impressed, that he thought he saw before his eyes a representation of the crucified Saviour, and heard his voice expostulating with him. The deep amazement of his soul, was succeeded by several days and nights of extreme horror, till, at length, as if in answer to agonizing cries and prayers, the day-spring of salvation dawned from on high. An entire change was wrought in his views, affections, and propensities; and he who was once blind

through the enmity of sin, saw clearly. This perceptible alteration of his behaviour soon excited the raillery of his former companions, which he sustained with calmness, and told them of his unalterable determination to serve the Lord. At his return from Paris to London, knowing that he must encounter the ridicule of those with whom he had once associated in sin, he requested to meet them on a social party at the house of a friend. During dinner he was the object of their sharpest witticisms, to which he made little reply; but when the cloth was removed, he entreated their hearing, while be recounted the cause of his visible alteration, the thorough change of his principles and affections, and the peace and serenity which he enjoyed, to which he was before a stranger. They listened to this manly and rational defence with the deepest astonishment; and the master of the house rising, said -"Come, let us call another cause. We thought this man mad, and he is in good earnest, proving that we are so." When his friends perceived him still cheerful and conversable, they no longer cavilled at his opinions, but seemed to wish to share his happiness, and to own him as a superior being.

None ever knew better how to blend the graceful and amiable discharge of the duties of life with the strict devotion of a Christian. He always rose so early as to be able to devote two hours to prayer, meditation and praise, in which he acquired an uncommon fervency, and realized great delight.

If the care and perplexity incidental to a life in camps, demanded his attention at an unusually early hour, he would rise proportionably early, that his religious duties might not be curtailed.

Communion with God gave vigour to his efforts, and sublimated his social feelings and affections. When he received a letter from a friend, it was his habit to retire and pray for him; and when he had charge of a family, the morning and evening orisons were never omitted. So anxious was he that the voice of prayer and praise should ever duly arise from his household altar, that he engaged a clergyman as a constant resident to officiate during his absence, and to attend to the instruction of his children.

His letters evince those fervent strains of piety to which the heart gives the keytone. The disturbed state of his beloved country, was a frequent theme of his correspondence.

"I am daily offering my prayers," he says, "for this sinful land of ours, over which the judgments of God seem so to be gathering. My strength is sometimes exhausted with the strong crying and tears that I pour out before Him, so that I am scarcely able to stand, when I rise from my knees."

The labours of this true patriot and Christian, were closed by that violent death which often awaits those who choose the life of a soldier. He fell at the battle of Preston-Pans, September 21st, 1745, at the head of his regiment. At the commencement of the action, he received two severe gun-shot wounds, which he disregarded, and continued to animate his men by his voice and example. But a fierce Highlander, with a scythe, severed his right arm from his body, and dragged him from his horse, while another rushing on him with a Lochaber axe, terminated his existence. As he lay on the earth expiring, he elevated the arm that was left, and gave signal for his men to retreat, saying in faint tones to a chief of the opposite party, who advanced to gaze upon him"You fight for an earthly crown, I go to receive a heavenly one."

It seems scarcely possible for two individuals to differ more from each other, than did this distinguished man from himself at various periods of life. And seldom has the infusion of a hallowed principle afforded more visible protection from the evils of a profession at variance with the peaceful requisitions of the Gospel; or more triumphantly sustained amid the terrors of an agonizing death.

ABSENCE. THE heart is perhaps never so sensible of happiness as after a short separation from the object of its affections. If it has been attended with peculiar circumstances of distress or danger, every misery that has been experieneed, tends, by the force of contrast, to increase delight, and gives to the pleasure of reunion an inexpressible degree of tenderness.Miss Hamilton.

THE BROTHERS,

WE ARE BUT TWO-the others sleep Through death's untroubled night; We are but two--O, let us keep

The link that binds us bright.

Heart leaps to heart-the sacred flood
That warms us is the same;
That good old man-his honest blood
Alike we fondly claim.

We in one mother's arms were lock'd-
Long be her love repaid;

In the same cradle we were rock'd

Round the same hearth we play'd.
Our boyish sports were all the same,
Each little joy and woe;-
Let manhood keep alive the flame.
Lit up so long ago.

WE ARE BUT TWO-be that the band
To hold us till we die;

Shoulder to shoulder let us stand,
Till side by side we lie.

THE BLIND WOMAN.

(From the French of Beranger.)

IT snows, it snows, but on the pavement still
She kneels and prays, nor lifts her head;
Beneath her rags through which the blast blows

shrill.

Shivering she kneels, and waits for bread.
Hither each morn she gropes her weary way,
Winter and summer, there is she.
Blind is the wretched creature! well-a-day!-
Ah! give the blind one charity!

Ah! once far different did that form appear;
That sunken cheek, that coleur wan,
The pride of thronged theatres, to hear
Her voice enraptured Paris ran;

In smiles or tears before her beauty's shrine,
Which of us has not bow'd the knee?-
Who owes not to her charms some dreams divine?
Ah! give the blind one charity!

How oft when from the crowded spectacle,
Homeward her rapid coursers flew ;
Admiring crowds would on her footsteps dwell,
And loud huzzas her path pursue.

To hand her from the glittering car, that bore
Her home to scenes of mirth and glee,
How many rivals throng'd around her door-
Ah! give the blind one charity.

When all the arts to her their homage paid,
How splendid was her gay abode;
What mirrors, marbles, bronzes, were display'd,
Tributes by love on love bestow'd:
How duly did the muse her banquets gild,
Faithful to her prosperity:

In every palace will the swallow build!
Ah! give the poor one charity.
But sad reverse-sudden disease appears;
Her eyes are quench'd, her voice is gone,
And here, forlorn and poor, for twenty years,
The blind one kneels and begs alone.
Who once so prompt her generous aid to lend?
What hand more liberal, frank, and free,
Than that she scarcely ventures to extend?-
Ah! give the poor one charity!

Alas for her! for faster falls the snow,

And every limb grows stiff with cold; That rosary once woke her smile, which now Her frozen fingers hardly hold.

If bruised beneath so many woes, her heart By pity still sustain'd may be,

Lest even her faith in heaven itself depart, Ah! give the blind one charity.

LABOUR.

PAUSE not to dream of the future before us: Pause not to weep the wild cares that come o'er us; Hark! how creation's deep, musical chorus,

Unintermitting, goes up into heaven!

Never the ocean wave falters in flowing;
Never the little seed stops in its growing;
More and more richly the rose-heart keeps
glowing,

Till from its nourishing stem it is riven. "Labour is worship!"-the robin is singing: "Labour is worship!"-the wild bee is ringing: Listen! that eloquent whisper, unspringing,

Speaks to thy soul from out Nature's great heart.

From the dark cloud flows the life-giving shower; From the rough sod blows the soft-breathing flower;

From the small insect, the rich coral bower;
Only man,
in the plan, shrinks from his part.
Labour is life!-'Tis the still water faileth;
Idleness ever despaireth, bewaileth;
Keep the watch wound, for the dark rust

assaileth!

Flowers droop and die in the stillness of noon. Labour is glory!-the flying cloud lightens; Only the waving wing changes and brightens; Idle hearts only the dark future frightens:

Play the sweet keys, wouldst thou keep them in tune.

Labour is rest-from the sorrows that greet us;
Rest from all petty vexations that meet us;
Rest from sin promptings that ever entreat us;
Rest from world-syrens that lure us to ill.
Work-and pure slumbers shall wait on thy
pillow;

Work-thou shalt ride over care's coming billow; Lie not down wearied 'neath woe's weeping willow!

Work with a stout heart and resolute will!

Droop not though shame, sin and anguish are round thee!

Bravely fling off the cold chain that hath bound thee!

Look to yon pure heaven, smiling beyond thee! Rest not content in thy darkness-a clod! Work-for some good,-be it ever so slowly! Cherish some flower,-be it ever so lowly! Labour! All labour is noble and holy;

Let thy great deeds be thy prayer to thy God!

ON FRIENDS AND FOES.

BY AN OLD WRITER.

Two painters, friend and foe, once went about To paint Antigones, whose one eye was out, Which t'one to show, and t'other for to hide, That turn'd his blind, and this his better, side. Just so twixt friends and foes men are exprest, By halves set forth, whilst they conceal the rest; None, as their friends or fees, depaint them would, Being ever half so bad, or half so good.

EXHIBITION FANCY AND

NEEDLEWORK.

WOOD CARVINGS.

"Where'er one turns, Vase, with rich vase, with picture vies, And flower-wreaths, carved of wood, half cheat the wondering eyes."-JOHN HOLLAND. THE specimens of wood carving exhibited in the Crystal Palace were collectively of the most elaborate and superior description that we have ever witnessed. Individually, many of them displayed great skill, inventiveness, and labour in production, but certainly some designs were misplaced, very inappropriate, or even absurd. It would be invidious to point out these designs particularly, we will therefore only allude to them generally.

Wood carving is undoubtedly intended as a means of ornamenting our furniture; of destroying the sameness of surface that would otherwise often be presented to us; and of elevating our tastes. That these objects are not always kept in view must be apparent to any ordinary observer. Nature is distorted, her uses perverted, and all kinds of elaborate fanciful inappropriate devices introduced for the sake of novelty and fashion; many exhibitors appeared to aim more at producing a striking effect, than in restricting themselves to the legitimate uses of wood-carving, introducing figures and objects quite foreign to the use of the object decorated. We are not of that class of persons who assert that wood-carving occupies as high a position in the arts as sculpture: it does not; it cannot. The positions are so totally different that it would be absurd to argue the matter, unless it be to claim for sculpture the preference. The finest Wood carving that was ever produced never pourtrayed that roundness and smoothness of surface peculiar to the human figure, that is obtained by employing marble. The former has, independent of its colour, a coarse grain that destroys the illusion, however fine the wood employed may be, and however great the skill of the carver. We object to that profuseness of ornamentation adopted by some exhibitors, because the usefulness of the article decorated becomes subservient to ornament, and its details serve as so many nooks for dust to rest in.

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We must omit to mention particularly

many specimens of wood-carving exhibited, on account of our space, and not from any demerits in the work itself.

The beautiful specimens of wood-carving produced by Mr.W. G. Rogers, 10, Carlislestreet, Soho,. (C. 30, No. 74), who follows the style of that great wood-carver Grinling Gibbons, are deserving of particular notice, and we feel delighted at being able to present our readers with the engraving of the cradle carved for his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, which some of the matrons of England declared to be the most interesting thing of its class in the Exhibition: in this we must beg to differ. The elegant designs of his son, W. Harry Rogers, have been faithfully, and we may well add, gracefully carried out by Mr. Rogers, in box-wood, satin-wood, lime-tree &c. His brackets in box-wood, especially one with a canopy intended as a receptacle for a thermometer, and the grotesque masks, are novel and effective. The group of fish, shells, sea-weeds and net, and the pheasant and wood-cock hung up with fruit and flowers which were exhibited, evinced masterly touches, and fully sustained the character of Mr. W. G. Rogers. We had almost omitted to mention his beautiful lime-tree frame executed in the style of Gibbons, abounding with passionflowers, roses, poppies, tulips, wheat, pears, melons and other kinds of fruit and flowers, finished with Mr. Rogers' usual style, and mounted upon a polished walnut wood moulding; but amid such a profusion as he exhibited in the shape of miniature frames, trophy, crozier head, spoons, saltcellars, brackets, cup, &c., it is difficult to select.

The Royal Cradle, which is 2 feet wide, 2 feet 10 inches long, and of proportionate height, was executed by Mr. Rogers, in Turkey box-wood, from designs by his son W. H. Rogers, and exhibited by her Majesty in C. 30. No. 353. It is symbolical of the union of the Royal House of England with that of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, and is thus described in the official catalogue :

"One end exhibits in the centre the armorial bearings of Her Majesty the Queen, surrounded by masses of foliage, natural flowers, and birds; on the rocker, beneath, is seen the head of 'Nox,' represented as a beautiful sleeping female,

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