The Parting Hour

Tho hour is coming - and it isafearful and solemn hour, even to the wisest ai.d tho best - the hour is coming wheu we must bid adieu to the scènes whiüh pleaso us, to the families we love, to the friends , we estuiMU. Wbethur we thiak or whether e thiuk not, th;it body, whioh ig warm md active with lifu, phuil be oold and motionless with dëath. The countenance must be palo, the eycs must be closi'd, the voico must be silenced, the senses must bo destroyed, the whole ap pearance must be chauged by the remorselt-ss hand of last eneiuv. We inay b mish the reniumbrancu of the weakness of our human natura; but our roluctance to reflect upun it, and our attompts to drive it from (mr rcGolleetions are n vaiu. We know that we aro seuteueed to die ; and thoiujjh we soniutimcs suceeed in eastuig olF fi T a seasüii the convic'ion of thls uiiweloome truth, we can never en tirely remove it. The refleetiop haui ts us s'ill: it Hos down with ua at nii;ht, it awakens wiíh us in the moruing. Tlie irrevocable doom is p;issed npon us, and too woll do we know it - " Dust thou art aud uuto dust thou shall rotura."