not the house but the throne of God, in company, in ord join in the symphonies of heavenly voices, and lose ours amidst the splendours and fruitions of the beatific vision!

To that state, all the pious on earth are tending; there is a law, from whose operations none are exempt, v irresistibly conveys their bodies to darkness and to dust, is another, not less certain or less powerful, which con their spirits to the abodes of bliss, to the bosom of their and their God. The wheels of nature are not made to backward; every thing presses on towards eternity: from birth of time an impetuous current has set in, which bear the sons of men towards that interminable ocean.. Mean heaven is attracting to itself whatever is congenial to its na is enriching itself by the spoils of earth, and collecting v its capacious bosom whatever is pure, permanent and di leaving nothing for the last fire to consume but the object the slaves of concupiscence: while every thing which has prepared and beautified, shall be gathered and selected the ruins of the world, to adorn that eternal city which no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it, fo glory of God doth enlighten it, and the Lamb is the light of. Let us obey the voice that calls us thither; let us see things that are above, and no longer cleave to a world must shortly perish, and which we must shortly quit, whi neglect to prepare for that in which we are invited to dwel ever. Let us follow in the track of those holy men, who taught us by their voice and encouraged us by their exa that laying aside every weight and the sin that most easily us, we may run with patience the race that is set before While every thing within us and around us, reminds us o approach of death and concurs to teach us, that this is not rest; let us hasten our preparations for another world, earnestly implore that grace which alone can put an er that fatal war, which our desires have too long waged with destiny. When these move in the same direction, and which the will of heaven renders unavoidable, shall becom choice, all things will be ours, life will be divested of it tiety and death of its terrors.

Extract from Rev. Dr. HARDIE's Sermon on the Resurre Edinburgh, 1785.

Twice had the sun gone down upon the earth, and all a

the

Son of God. Still and silent, the hours passed on, the guards stood at their post, the rays of the midnight moon gleamed on their helmets and on their spears. The enemies of Christ exulted in their success, the hearts of his friends were sunk in despondency, the spirits of glory waited in anxious suspense to behold the event, and wondered at the depth of the ways of God. At length, the morning star, arising in the east, announced the approach of light. The third day began to dawn upon the world, when on a sudden, the earth trembled to its centre, and the powers of heaven were shaken, an angel of God descended. the guards shrunk back from the terror of his presence and fell prostrate on the ground. "His countenance was like light ning and his raiment white as snow." He rolled away stone from the door of the sepulchre and sat upon it. But who is this that cometh forth from the tomb, with dyed garments from the bed of death? He that is glorious in his appearance, walking in the greatness of his strength? It is thy prince, 0 Zion! Christian, it is your Lord! He hath trodden the wine press alone, he hath stained his raiment with blood, but now, as the first born from the womb of nature, he meets the morn ing of his resurrection. He arises a conqueror from the grave, he returns with blessings from the world of spirits, he brings salvation to the son of men. Never did the returning sun usher in a day so glorious. It was the jubilee of the Universe, The morning stars sung together, and all the sons of God shouted aloud for joy. The Father of mercies looked down from his throne in the heavens, with complacency he beheld his world restored, he saw his work that it was good. Then did the desart rejoice, the face of nature was gladdened before him, when the blessings of the Eternal descended as the dews of heaven, for the refreshing of the nations.

The Spanish Lady's Farewell.-BETHAM,

Manuel, I do not shed a tear

Our parting to delay;

I dare not listen to my fear,

I dare not bid thee stay.

The heart may shrink, the spirit fail,

But Spaniards must be free,

And pride and duty shall prevail

O'er all my love for thee.

THE LIFE-BOAT.-Moore.

Tis sweet to behold, when the billows are sleeping,
Some gay coloured bark moving gracefully by ;
No damp on her deck, but the even-tide weeping;
No breath in her sails, but the summer wind's sigh,

Yet who would not turn with fonder emotion,
To gaze on the life-boat, though rugged and worn,
Which often hath wafted o'er hills of the ocean,
The last sigh of hope to the sailor forlorn.

Oh! grant that of those who in life's sunny slumber,
Around us, like summer barks, idly have play'd;
When storms are abroad, we may find, in the number,
One friend, like the life-boat, to fly to our aid.

THE MEETING OF THE WATERS.-Moore.
There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet,
As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet;
O! the last rays of feeling and life must depart,
Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart.

Yes, it was not that nature had shed o'er the scene
Her purest of crystal and brightest of green;

1

was not the soft magic of streamlet or hill,
! no-it was something more exquisite still.

was that friends, the belov'd of my bosom were near, ho made each dear scene of enchantment more dear; nd who felt how the blest charms of nature improve, hen we see them reflected from looks that we love.

veet vale of Ovoca! how calm could I rest

thy bosom of shade, with the friends I love best; hen the storms which we feel in this cold world shall cease,

d our hearts, like thy waters, be mingled in peace.

THE BEACON.-James.

The scene was more beautiful far to my eye
Than if day in its pride had arrayed it ;
The land breeze blew mild, and the azure-arch'd sky
Look'd pure as the spirit that made it.

The murmur rose soft as I silently gaz'd,
On the shadowy waves playful motion,
From the dim distant hill, till the Beacon-fire blaz'd,
Like a star in the midst of the ocean.

No longer the joy of the sailor boy's breast
Was heard in his wildly breath'd numbers,
The sea-bird had flown to her wave-girdled nest,
The fisherman sunk to his slumbers.

One moment I look'd from the hill's gentle slope;
All hush'd was the billow's commotion,
And thought that the Beacon look'd lovely as hope,
That star on life's tremulous ocean.

The time is long past, and the scene is afar,
Yet when my head rests on its pillow,
Will memory sometimes rekindle the star
That blazed on the breast of the billow.
In life's closing hour, when the trembling soul flies,
And death stills the heart's last emotion;
mercy arise!

O then may the seraph of

The Wind passeth over it and it is gone.

I saw a dew-drop, cool and clear,
Dance on a myrtle spray,

Fair colours decked the lucid tear
Like those which gleam and disappear
When showers and sun-beams play :
Sol cast athwart a glance severe
And scorched the pearl away.

High on a slender, polished stem,
A fragrant lily grew,
On the pure petals, many a gem
Glittered a native diadem

Of healthy morning dew:
A blast of lingering winter blew
And snapped the stem in two.

Fairer than morning's early tear
Or lily's snowy bloom,
Shines beauty in its vernal year,
Bright, sparkling, facinating, clear,
Gay, thoughtless of its doom!
Death breathes a sudden poison near
And sweeps it to the tomb.

WASHINGTON's MONUMENT.

For him, who sought his country's good
In plains of war and scenes of blood;
Who in the dubious battle's fray
Spent the warm noon of life's bright day,
That to the world he might secure
Rights that forever shall endure-

Rear the monument of Fame;
Deathless is the hero's name.

For him, who when the war was done,
And victory sure and freedom won,
Left glory's theatre-the field,
The olive branch of peace to wield;
And prov'd when at the helm of state