Would he lie and sing to his sweet harp
Psalms holy and sublime to Israel's God.
To Israel's God his harp was ever strung,
To Israel's God with praise the echoes rung.
Not such the one to guard our natal soil,
Not such the one to stand in battle broil;
He hates the glittering shield, and sword,
And spear. To him the heights of Lebanon
More dear. Brighter and better Hermon's
Sunny brow and on fair Carmel's mount
He feeds his flock e'en now. To lead
The tender lambkins on their way;
To guard the older from the beasts of prey;

By Kedron's brook, and Jordan's wave

To stray the star by night, the sun

His guide by day :—such his employ-
Shall he be called from the vine-clad hills
Away? No more to go forth 'mid the
Morning dew; or meet the fond smile of
The mother's lip at close of day?

My first-born is the Lord's. Stately Eliab.
He hath the lion port of Judah's lordly
Tribe. And his the eagle's eye glancing
Around him even as the fiery light of
A bright meteor under the brow of night.
And next Aminidab-and Shammah next-
All of my sons, save this, are they not

1

With the mighty? And shall he lead
Forth great Israel's host: the fairest,
Youngest, least in his father's house?

And Samuel said unto Jesse,"Send and fetch him."

The old man stood apart. Meekly

He stood yielding his all to God.

Seven goodly sons had passed before the Lord,

Men of high worth and great renown,

Of princely race, noble in countenance,

Of stature tall, and worthy each and all to fill a throne.

Yet one by one the prophet had rejected.
But now, obedient to the call, his shepherd
Boy drew nigh. His fair
young brow
Half hid by clustering curls: his bright
Eyes beaming love; his ruddy cheek, from
Hasting on his way, yet deeper glowed.

Why grow the furrows in that aged brow
Darker and deeper? Why does the oaken staff
But late so firmly set, quiver beneath
The trembling hand? Doth fear for that`
Fair boy? Ay! is he not the child of thy

Old age? Yes! thou hast watched him long,
And his sweet smile has been as light
Within thy tent: his vigorous youth

Has been a green prop to thy yielding age:
His morning song has been thy glory,
And his evening praise thy joy: and in
The fulness of his loving heart, thou
Wouldst have rested in thy latest hour.

The youth with bounding step
Advanced: fleet as the young hart on the
Spicy mountains: his harp upon his
Shoulder flung: his crook within his hand :
The prophet smiling gazed on the comely
Youth: the poet of the land.

The Spirit was upon him.

"Father," he said, "behold the Lord's anointed!
By rite and ritual, by fast and feast, by first
Fruits offered, and by blood of beasts,
Thou and thy godlike sons were sanctified.
But this one needs it not: holy to God
Even in the tent and by the running stream,
And in the wild, the Lord has seen his own,
And in the quiet of a perfect soul, the oil
Of God upon his head has flowed. Behold
The Lord's anointed!

Father! why tremblest thou? the staff

Will not yet be removed of thine old age.

Often thou yet shall see his winning smile,
And hear the loved music of his heaven
Strung harp. God's Israel needs a king-
Behold him here!"

Philadelphia, 6th Mo. 25th, 1838.

M. J.

THE SENSE OF DUTY.

THERE is one principle of the soul, which makes all men essentially equal, which places all on a level as to means of happiness, which may place in the first rank of human beings those who are the most depressed in worldly condition, and which, therefore, gives the most depressed a title to interest and respect. I refer to the sense of duty, to the power of discerning and doing right, to the moral and religious principle, to the inward monitor which speaks in the name of God, to the capacity of virtue or excellence.

This is the great gift of God. We can conceive no greater. In seraph and archangel, we can conceive no higher energy than the power of virtue, or the power of forming themselves after the will and perfections of God.