the words, "Head of the
Army," as if his thoughts were running on the field of battle, and
immediately afterwards his immortal spirit quitted the tabernacle of
clay in which it dwelt. Such was Napoleon's death-bed. Alas! we look in
vain upon it for that language of triumph which has so often broken from
the lips of the followers of Jesus, when passing through the dark
"valley of the shadow of death." With Napoleon's dying moments, contrast
those of an eminent saint of God, Dr. Payson. "I seem to swim in a flood
of glory," said he to some young persons, "which God pours down upon me.
And I know--I know that my happiness is but begun--I cannot doubt that
it will last for ever. My young friends, were I master of the whole
world, what could it do for me like this! Nothing, nothing. Now all this
happiness I trace back to the religion which I have preached, and to the
time when that great change took place in my heart, which, I have often
told you, is necessary to salvation;--and I now tell you again, that
without this change you cannot, no, you cannot see the kingdom of God!"

Napoleon was buried at Longwood, in the Island of St. Helena, under a
large willow tree; but in 1840 his remains, with the consent of the
British Government, were removed to Paris, and buried with grand honors
in that city.

THE PITCAIRN ISLANDERS.

Many islands have at different times risen above the sea, which had for
long years washed over and hidden them. There are two ways in which new
islands are thus born like a fresh creation from God.

The great volcanic force which sends out flames and ashes from the tops
of high mountains, or makes the solid earth tremble and crack, is at
work also below the bed of the sea, and from time to time islands are
raised there either slowly or by some sudden convulsion, just as we have
also reason to believe that other islands are even now sinking lower
under the influence of the same force, until, most likely, in years to
come, the waves will once more flow over them again. You must not forget
that when we talk of the forces of nature we mean really the hand of
God. He it is who sends these great convulsions, or who directs the slow
upheaving of new land. All is quite as truly the work of God as when, at
His word, the dry land first appeared. "Fire and hail, snow and vapors,
stormy wind," are all "fulfilling His word."

Many of these islands, when first raised above the sea, must have been
active vol