ful towards his mother. His tutor advised him to wear both dresses at once. He took his advice, and appeared before his father with his common clothes over a mourning suit. The emperor was much enraged, and gave him so violent a blow, that after languishing a few days, he died.

Kien-Long had fifteen, some say seventeen, sons. He gave up the government when he was eighty-six years old, to the youngest, and died three years afterward, or in Feb. 1799.

VISIT TO ROME. No. III.

St. Peter's church-Its plain outside-Beauty of the inside-Tomb of St. Peter.

YES, we are actually in Rome, at last. As we pace up and down our room, and see that it is much like any other room, we continually ask each other, in astonishment, whether we are dreaming, or whether we shall soon really see the Coliseum, the Forum, and St. Peter's Church?

The first visit of most strangers is to St. Peter's. We pass, for more than a mile, through the mean, dirty, narrow streets of the Campus Martius, cross the Tiber by the Point St. Angelo, which looks like a drawbridge, to the castle of the same name on its opposite side, turn to the left under the base of the castle, and choose one of two wretched parallel streets which conduct to the piazza, and St. Peter's is then before us.

From the wide extended front of the church, on each side, a grand semi-circular colonnade encloses an immense circular area, in the centre of which stands a noble Egyptian obelisk of red oriental granite, between two of the most beautiful fountains in the world, which for ever play, hid by

52

their own glittering showers. St. Peter's itself, to my surprise, appears on the outside more like a large palace or dwelling house, three or four stories high, with small attie windows at the top, than like a church. The windows are mean and ugly looking; absolutely offensive to the eye.

Crossing the piazza, we entered the por· tico, which though ugly on the outside, is very beautiful within. From this portico, five doors lead into the body of the church. One of the great curtains which cover them was held up for us, and we passed into the interior. Here, as we slowly walked up the middle of the church, we found it panelled with the rarest and richest marble, and adorned in the most beautiful and costly manner. The eye caught, through lofty arches, opening views of chapels, altars, and tombs. On every side were beautiful and splendid crosses, and many ornaments.

Under the lofty dome, which, like the heaven itself, seemed to rise above our heads, around whose golden vault the figures of the twelve apostles appeared, we made a short pause, and leaning against the railing, looked down upon a most magnificent tomb below, lighted by a thousand never-dying lamps, and canopied by the wreathed pillars and curtained festoons of the brazen tabernacle, where, it is said, lie the mortal remains of St. Peter himself.*

This church and its beautiful colonnades are entirely built of stone brought from Tivoli. It is very beautiful, and looks as fresh as if finished yesterday. In solidity, durability, color and beauty, it is far superior to the finest marble.

[Our next number will embrace an account of the Capitol and the Forum.]

*The Apostle Peter is generally supposed to have suffered martyrdom at Rome, but the spot pointed out

by Mrs W. may or may not be the real place of his in

terment.

53

RICHARD REYNOLDS,

THE BENEVOLENT QUAKER.

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But he was a man of piety, as well as of benevolence. He abhorred the idea of

More anecdotes of him.

THIS gentleman was a native of Bristol, England, and though he had a wealthy father, was brought up in habits of industry. By diligence in business he became wealthy himself; and, what is not always the case with wealthy men, he was charitable.

A lady once applied to him on behalf of an orphan, and received a liberal gift. She said; "When he is old enough, I will teach him to name and thank his benefactor." "Stop," said the good man; "thou mistakest. We do not thank the clouds for rain. Teach him to look higher, and thank Him who giveth both clouds and rain."

Some persons think it enough to give one tenth of their income to the cause of God, reserving nine tenths for themselves. But Richard Reynolds did not expend more than one tenth of his yearly income on himself. The rest was sacredly devoted to the benefit of his fellow men. Nearly the whole of his time, during the last ten years of his life, was spent in seeking out and relieving the distressed.

During a time of great scarcity and distress in London, in 1795, he sent to the committee at London £20,000, (nearly $89,000) enclosed, without putting his name to it. This he did besides assisting the poor of his own neighborhood. He has often given 500 guineas, ($2,300) at a time, to purposes of charity; and once, twice that sum; and without allowing his name to be published. In one year he gave, for different charitable societies and objects £20,000. It is supposed that he gave away, in various charities, during his whole life, not less than a million of dollars.

charity. The following anecdote is related to show his regard for the Bible.

Being once urged by a friend to sit for his portrait, he at length reluctantly consented. "How," said his friend, “would you like to be painted? Sitting among books." "Any book in particular?” “The

Bible."

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ONE day a longed-billed, long-necked, long-legged Heron was walking on the banks of a river, whose water was clear as crystal, in which were playing up and down the stream, the carp, the pike and the trout. The Heron might easily have caught them, but he thought it better to wait till his appetite was more keen.

A little while after, his appetite came to him, and he saw tench rising from the sandy bottom. But these were not delicate enough for his taste; so he was resolved to wait for better fare. Our bird staid for more delicate food till not so much as one fish appeared. His hunger at length became so

great that he was gad to eat even a poor snail.

Moral. We too often neglect the advantages and opportunities within our reach, until, too late, we find abundant cause for repentance, and regret. Northcote.

MAXIMS FOR THE YOUNG. Be careful to keep your word, even in the most trifling matter.

Do not tell unlikely or silly stories, if you know them to be true.

If you can make yourself perfectly understo d in six words, never use a dozen.

55

For Parley's Magazine.

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one of the soldiers, washed her blanket and hung it out to dry. One of the baboons stole it, and ran off into the hills. This enraged the soldiers, and they determined

DIALOGUE BETWEEN JOSEPH AND

ROSAMOND.

tures.

J. But, Rosamond, you are now quite a young lady, and can understand much that is written in it, and, I assure you, it is very interesting.

R. It may be, though I never thought it was. But perhaps while we are waiting here, for uncle and aunt, you can tell me something about it.

J. In the last number, I found much that is valuable, but the first story I will tell you from it, is about some baboons. Do you remember where the Cape of Good Hope is?

R. It is at the southern extremity of Africa. I will find it on the large Map. There it is, and it belongs to England.

J. Very well. An English Lieutenant, John Shipp, describes a skirmish which he had with some baboons near this place. He says that whole regiments of them collect in the hills, and one or more of their number act as officers. They are about six feet high, and in features and manners resemble men. The barracks of the English soldiers were at the foot of the hills, and when they went to parade, they were obliged to leave armed men to protect what few things they had. Even then the baboons would sometimes steal away the great coats, blankets, or whatever they could lay their claws upon. One day the wife of

Lieut. Shipp went with a part of the men around one side, intending to get between the baboons and their cave, so that they could not retreat. But the baboons saw what was going on, and fifty of them went to the mouth of the cave to guard it. The others remained at their posts. Lieut. Shipp therefore returned.

While this was going on, the baboons were busy collecting large stones, and other missiles; and an old grey headed one, which the soldiers called Father Murphy, was engaged planning the attack. As the soldiers advanced up the hill, old Father Murphy gave a scream, and immediately the whole host of baboons rolled down enormous stones upon them, so that they were obliged to hasten back to their barracks as quick as possible. The victorious baboons followed them even to their doors. The next morning, eight or ten of these mischievous animals were seen, with pieces of the blanket on their shoulders.

One morning, a while after this, Father Murphy imprudently walked into one of the barracks, and was just going off with a uniform coat, when a soldier caught him, and with the aid of some of his comrades, put a basket on his mouth, shaved his head and face, and started him up the hill to rejoin his companions. The old rogue seemed unwilling to go, but the soldiers, determined to have their share of the fun, forced him along. Some of the baboons came down to meet him, but he was se much altered that they thought him an enemy, and fell to beating him and pelting