It was a sight most strange, to see that mass
Of human beings moving thro' a pass,

Dug, as it were out of the deep below,

And made and form'd right thro' the water's flow.
But on they moved, till far beyond the tide,
High on the land, the last one stood beside
The ancient man, then, like a curtain when
Its cords are drawn, that cloud rose up again-
Rose from the earth, disclosing to the view
Of Egypt's host, its prey passed safely through
The waste of waters, whose wild rolling swell
Back from that wondrous path still rose and fell.
Then, in its might, down swept that furious

host,

Like midnight waves by some wild tempest tost, With hundreds, thousands, clad in bright array, Tow'rds the wide waste where that deep path

way lay.

Fearless they moved, -and fearless, thro' the sea, Whose caves resounded with their mirth and

glee,

They trode in myriads, while upon their view Rich treasure shone with many a rainbow hue. On these they gazed, and on each dazzling gem And hidden secret now disclosed to them, Beholding, scattered o'er the path they trode, Bright, glittering gems, to form the wondrous road.

But while they gazed, the ancient man once

more

Stretched forth his hand the troubled waters o'er, And, fast o'erwhelm'd, beneath their furious sweep,

The chrystal wall that bound the fetter'd deep
To atoms shiver'd, while the scream that rose,
All choked and gurgling, up from Israel's foes,
Mix'd with the tempest, and was scatter'd far
And wide amidst th' elemental war.

Then all was still-and from the silent bed
Of waters rolling far above their head,

No sound was heard; nor was a relic seen
To tell of those who now had only been.

And who were they! Amidst the reckless

sweep

Of swelling waves, and rushing of the deep,
For one short moment, I, methought, beheld
A ghastly hand, and royal crown upheld,
And, by the sight of that vain useless thing,
I knew God's wrath had come on Egypt's king!

THE

VISIT OF MERCY.

BY RICHARD HUIE. M. D.

"You are very absent this morning," said Philander to Onesimus, as he interrupted him in his progress through the street of a considerable manufacturing town in Scotland.

"I crave your forgiveness, my dear friend," replied Onesimus. "My mind was occupied, and I did not observe you."

"And with what subject, if I may venture to inquire, was your mind so deeply occupied ?" rejoined Philander with a smile.

"With a very important subject,” said Onesimus, "the eternal interests of a fellow-sinner! A subject," continued he, "at all times momentous; but more especially when that fellow-sinner is fast approaching thehouse appointed for all living,' and sees nothing beyond it except darkness, confusion, and despair.

Philander was affected by the earnest manner in which Onesimus pronounced these words. He put his arm in that of his friend, and they walked on for some minutes in silence.

The conversation was at length renewed by Onesimus, who, turning to Philander, addressed him as follows:

"If you will accompany me, my dear friend, to the humble dwelling at which I am about to call, I shall introduce you to the object of my present solicitude. He is a young tradesman about seventeen years of age, whose parents having once been in better circumstances, conferred upon him an education somewhat above his present rank in life, while, unhappily, they took no pains

to instil into his mind the principles of our most holy faith. Being a lad of quick parts, his company was eagerly sought, and his morals early corrupted by infidel companions. He began with neglecting, and ended by deriding the ordinances of religion. His parents, who are decent, wellmeaning people, saw their error when it was too late; but their remonstrances were of no avail. He is now laid on a sick-bed, and (if I mistake not) in the last stage of consump tion. His infidel companions have forsaken him, and in their principles he finds no consolation. His bodily sufferings are consi, derable; but such is his mental anguish, that he seems scarcely conscious of the pain which they occasion."

Here Onesimus paused for a moment; but as Philander made no remark, he immediately proceeded.

"It is unnecessary to acquaint you with the manner in which I became aware of his situation, or with the circumstances which led to my paying him a visit. Suffice it to say, that I have now seen him thrice, but ap