world, who would not aspire to the moral elevation which he has attained, that he also may reap a rich harvest of gratitude like that which shall hereafter flow from the hearts of multitudes who shall arise and call him blessed!

This has been rightly termed 'an age of action.' But it is also true that it is an age of impulse and feeling; and, it is to be feared, it is also an age of far too little contemplation. Now action, however vigorous, and however benevolent, if not intelligently directed to the accomplishment of its object, may not only fall far short of success, but may subvert the very end it was designed to answer. Therefore, as a community becomes more active in plans of benevolence, and more zealous for the promotion of the good of any particular portion of its constituent elements that may seem to claim its especial interest and sympathy, there should also be a progressive advance in intelligence, lest the good of the whole be endangered by premature and crude action, or the interests of the part be actually put back by the overbearing restlessness of unenlightened generosity. 'Zeal without knowledge' is fearful in its consequences and its responsibilities.

We have said that it is an age of action.' It is peculiarly so in this country; and infidelity and misrule drink deeply into the spirit of the age. Every adversary of intellectual and moral progress,

every enemy to civil and religious liberty is rallied, and the contest lies between them and the genuine disciples of the pilgrims of Plymouth rock-the well-wishers to our country and the world. And there must not, nay, there cannot be any neutrality in this contest. He that is not panoplied for the support of virtue and the laws, and thus of freedom, will not need to be classed with the foes to good principles; for already is he claimed as a choice spirit, who will do nothing against their

cause.

Where then is my field of action? What course of conduct shall I adopt and pursue? Is there not some thought that I can communicate to the world through the medium of an open press, or that I can present at some meeting for benevolent purposes, or that I can convey to the bosom of a personal friend, that will urge on the progress of order and every good principle in the community? Is there not some prayer that I can offer, to avert the clouds of calamity that threaten the liberties of our country, and which retard the increase of the American Zion? Brethren, (for my sympathies 'delight especially in regarding all young men as my brethren) let us awake to our duty, and manfully seize upon every opportunity to do good; for there is a great and good work to be done, and there are great responsibilities resting upon us. There is a great battle to be fought. Let us then gird ourselves to the warfare. Let us be careful

to improve all our talents, and rightly use all our energies. And be assured, if we are faithful, we shall rescue and bear away in safety the ark of our civil and religious liberties, to be enshrined forever in the sanctuary of peace; for the Lord of Sabaoth is on our side.

THOUGHTS

OF A DYING PHILOSOPHER

A firm religious belief creates new hopes when all earthly hopes vanish, and throws over the decay, the destruction of existence, the most gorgeous of all lights; awakens life even in death, and from corruption and decay calls up beauty and divinity. SIR H. DAVY'S SALMONIA.

WHERE are the sable curtains that are wont

To hang the couch of death? And where those sprites.
That cluster round the valley of the shade

Of death? Where are those moans that rend the ear
Of living and of dying, as they break

From each in fitful sympathy and dark
Forebodings for the event of this probation?
Where are those lowering thunderbolts of wrath,
That wait to strike the sinner down to hell-
Those lightnings, too, of guilty consciousness,
That pass quick judgment on the soul that gives
Their flashings out? I see nor hear them here.
But there are angels hovering o'er my bed,
And shutting out with plumed drapery

Those blasts that chill the soul and cause its blood

To curd with quick recessions ·

hastening death.

Their golden wings light up a halo round,

That gently blends the night of death with day
Eternal and unchanging. Not a cloud
Flits o'er the surface of my mind, but such
As, clad in richest iridescent tints,

Bear faith and hope and heaven begun within
From God, whose covenant mercy bids me joy
In death's embrace.

Blest Paraclete, Divine !

"T was thou who didst remove the film that dulled My spirit's vision, and hast made the truth

My eager errand here. And since I've found,

And quickened by thy gracious impulse — have
From erst proclaimed it, as it shone around

In radiant readings to the mental eye,
From intellect, creation animate,

From minerals and shells and fossils rare,

The undulating pool, and caverned deep,

Reverberating forests, flowers, gems,

From sere and green, from heat and cold, rain, hail
And snow,
the dashing cataract, the rill,

The ebullient crater, atmosphere, the stars,
The planets, sun and moon, the air, and from
Those distant orbs, whose swiftly travelling light
Has ne'er reached earthly vision since the world
Was spoke from chaos ; and since faith has e'en
Begun to realize that crystal bliss

-

Where truth's unmixed and plain, discoverable
where gold is pure without assaying;

To all
And gems lie free from marl; where rivers clear
Burst from the Fount of Life, and water fields
Of everlasting verdure; and where love

A citizen of Milan, sixty years of age, had never been forth of the walls of the city. The Prince hearing of it, commanded him not to stir out. Being now forbidden that which all his life he had neglected, he earnestly desired; and being denied, be died of grief. BURTON'S ANAT. MELAN.

A BRIGHTER day ne'er shone on Italy.
And never did her palaces and towers

Cast forth a shade more grateful; nor the breeze
From off the placid bosom of her lakes,
Steal to more thankful hearts than on that day.
The happy crowds pressed Milan's busy mart
Already peopled with the living shades

Of her rich statuary, starting forth

-

As 't were to welcome them. Adda just plashed ;
And Tesin's undulations sparkled up,

Only to increase the splendor of the scene.
Gay thousands quaffed the olive-scented air,
And trod the shady groves without the walls
Neglectfully.

But there was one, whose moan
Stole on the ear of her, whose sympathies
Impelled an entrance to his latticed cot,

That she might ply that tenderness which glows

From woman's heart so brightly.

Blasted hope

Alas! she entered just to see him die.
He laid-

— a hoary man in tears his heart

Replete with madness such as burns, when pressed