world, yet, since they came by the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, it is but reasonable to expect that they should preserve some small relish of it, as books translated into another tongue always retain some marks of their originals. And hence it comes to pass, that though the Holy Ghost does vouchsafe to speak in the language of men, yet in his divine compositions there are some traces to be found of that bold and unlimited ratiocination which is peculiar to the heavenly inhabitants, whose noble and flaming thoughts are never clogged with the cold and jejune laws of human method.

ON THE BEAUTIES OF THE PSALMS.

Poetry is sublime when it awakens in the mind any great and good affection, as piety or patriotism. This is one of the noblest effects of the art. The Psalms are remarkable beyond all other writings for their power of inspiring devout emotions. But it is not in this respect only that they are sublime. Of the Divine nature they contain the most magnificent descriptions that the soul of man can comprehend. The hundred and fourth Psalm, in particular, displays the power and goodness of Providence, in creating and preserving the world and the various tribes of animals in it, with such majestic brevity and beauty as it is vain to look for in any human composition. Greatness confers no exemption from the cares and sorrows of life; its share of them frequently bears a melancholy proportion to its exaltation. This the Israelitish monarch experienced. He sought in piety that peace which he could not find in empire, and alleviated the disquietudes of state with the exercises of devotion. His invaluable Psalms convey those comforts to others which they afforded to himself. Composed upon particular occasions, yet designed for general use; delivered out

yet no less adapted to the circumstances of Christians under the Gospe1, they present religion to us in the mos engaging dress, communicating truths which philosophy could never investigate, in a style which poetry can never equal, while history is made the vehicle of prophecy, and creation lends all its charms to paint the glories of redemp tion. Calculated alike to profit and to please, they inform the understanding, elevate the affections, and entertain the imagination. Indited under influence of Him to whom all hearts are known, and all events foreknown, they suit mankind in all situations, grateful as the manna which descended from above and conformed itself to every palate. The fairest productions of human wit, after a few perusals, like gathered flowers, wither in our hands, and lose their fragrance; but these unfading plants of paradise become, as we are accustomed to them. still more and more beautiful; their bloom appears to be daily heightened; fresh odors are emitted, and new sweets extracted from them. He who hath once tasted their excellences will desire to taste them yet again, and he who tastes them oftenest will relish them best. And now, could the author flatter himself that any one would take half the pleasure in reading his work which he hath taken in writing it, he would not fear the loss of his labor. The employment detached him from the bustle and hurry of life, the din of politics, and the noise of folly: vanity and vexation flew away for a season; care and disquietude came not near his dwelling. He arose, fresh a the morning, to his task; the silence of the night invited him to pursue it; and he can truly say that food and rest were not preferred before it. Every Psalm improved infinitely upon his acquaintance with it, and no one gave him uneasiness but the last; for then

he grieved that his work was done. Happier hours than those which have been spent in these meditations on the songs of Zion he never expects to see in this world. Very pleasantly did they pass, and moved smoothly and swiftly along; for, when thus engaged, he counted no time. They are gone, but have left a relish and a fragrance upon the mind, and the remembrance of them is sweet.

DAVID'S DESCRIPTION OF THE DEITY.

Bless the Lord, O my soul! O Lord, my God, thou art very great: thou art clothed with honor and majesty. Who coverest thyself with light as with a garment: who stretchest out the heavens like a curtain: who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters: who maketh the clouds his chariot: who walketh upon the wings of the wind: who maketh his angels spirits; his ministers a flaming fire: who laid the foundations of the earth, that it should not be removed forever. Thou coveredst it with the deep as with a garment: the waters stood above the mountains. At thy rebuke they fled; at the voice of thy thunder they hasted away. They go up the mountains; they go down by the valleys, unto the place which thou hast founded for them. Thou hast set a bound that they may not pass over; that they turn not again to cover the earth. He sendeth the springs into the valleys, which run among the hills. They give drink to every beast of the field: the wild asses quench their thirst. By them shall the fowls of the heaven have their habitation, which sing among the branches. He watereth the hills from his chambers: the earth is satisfied with the fruit of thy works. He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the service of man: that he may bring forth food out of the earth; and oil to make his face to shine, and bread which strengtheneth a man's heart. The trees of the Lord

are full of sap; the cedars of Lebanon, which he hath planted; where the birds make their nests: as for the stork, the fir-trees are her house. The high hills are a refuge for the wild goats; and the rocks for the conies. He appointeth the moon for seasons: the sun knoweth his going down. Thou makest darkness, and it is night: wherein all tho beasts of the forest do creep forth. The young lions roar after their prey, and seek their meat from God. The sun ariseth, they gather themselves. together, and lay them down in their dens. Man goeth forth unto his work, and to his labor until the evening. O Lord, how manifold are thy works! in wisdom hast thou made them all: the earth is full of thy riches. So is this great and wide sea, wherein are things creeping innumerable, both small and great beasts. There go the ships: there is that leviathan, which thou hast made to play therein. These wait all upon thee, that thou mayest give them their meat in due season. That thou givest them, they gather: thou openest thy hand, they are filled with good. Thou hidest thy face, they are troubled; thou takest away their breath, they die, and return to their dust. Thou sendest forth thy spirit, they are created: and thou renewest the face of the earth. The glory of the Lord shall endure forever; the Lord shall rejoico in his works. He looketh on the earth, and it trembleth: he toucheth the hills, and they smoke. I will sing unto the Lord as long as I live: I will sing praises to my God while I have my being. My meditation of him shall be sweet: I will be glad in the Lord.

HOLY SCRIPTURE.

OLD HYMN

WHO has this Book and reads it not
Doth God himself despise;
Who reads but understandeth not,
His soul in darkness lies.

WHEN the hours of Day are numbered,
And the voices of the Night
Wake the better soul that slumbered,
In a holy, calm delight;

Ere the evening lamps are lighted,
And, like phantoms grim and tall,
Shadows from the fitful fire-light
Dance upon the parlor wall;

Then the forms of the departed
Enter at the open door;
he beloved, the true-hearted,
Come to visit me once more;

He, the young and strong, who cherished

Noble longings for the strife,
By the road-side fell and perished,
Weary with the march of life!

They, the holy ones and weakly,

Who the cross of suffering bore, Folded their pale hands so meekly, Spake with us on earth no more!

And with them the Being Beauteous, Who unto my youth was given, More than all things else to love me, And is now a saint in Heaven.

With a slow and noiseless footstep Comes the messenger divine, Takes the vacant chair beside me, Lays her gentle hand in mine.

And she sits and gazes at ine

With those deep and tender eyes, Like the stars, so still and saintlike, Looking downward from the skies.

Uttered not, yet comprehended,

Is the spirit's voiceless prayer,
Soft rebukes, in blessings ended,
Breathing from her lips of air.

O, though oft depressed and lonely,
All my fears are laid aside,

If I but remember only

Such as these have lived, and died.

THE HAPPY LIFE.

Year after year, her tender steps pur suing,

Behold her grown more fair.

Thus do we walk with her, and keep unbroken

The bond which nature gives, Thinking that our remembrance, though unspoken,

May reach her where she lives. Not as a child shall we again behold her; For, when with raptures wild, In our embraces we again enfold her, She will not be a child;

But a fair maiden in her father's mansion,

Clothed with celestial grace;

And beautiful with all the soul's expansion

Shall we behold her face.

And though at times impetuous with

emotion

And anguish long suppressed, The swelling heart heaves moaning like the ocean

That can not be at rest,-

We will be patient, and assuage the feeling

We may not wholly stay; By silence sanctifying, not concealing, The grief that must have way.

THE GRAND OBJECT OF RELIGION.

DR. CLARK.

THE end and design of all religion; the proper effect and produce of good principles; the good fruit of a good tree; the ultimate view and the fundamental intention of all religious truths implanted in men, either by nature or teaching, is the practice of virtue. For the word religion, in its very native and original meaning, signifies an obligation upon men, arising from the reason of things, and from the government of God, to do

what is just, and virtuous, and good; to live in a constant, habitual sense and acknowledgment of God, in the practice. of universal justice and charity toward men, and in regular and sober government of their own passions, under a firm persuasion and continual expectation of the righteous distribution of rewards and punishment at their proper season, in the eternal judgment of God. This is the foundation of religion, the fundamental doctrine, in all places and at all times, invariable and eternal. This, being corrupted by numerous superstitions among the Jews, and by the absurdest idolatries and most enormous immoralitics among the heathen, Christ came into the world to restore; and by the preaching of forgiveness upon true repentance and effectual amendment of life and manners, to bring back sinners to the kingdom of God, through the ebedience of the Gospel. In proportion, therefore, as any doctrine of truth has a greater or more proper and more immediate tendency to promote this great end, to produce this fruit of the spirit, exactly the very same proportion has it of weight and excellency in the religious estimation of things; it is gold, or silver, or precious stones (in the Apostle's language) built upon the foundation of Christ. And, on the other side, any erroneous opinion, in proportion as it has any or no moral influence, in the very same proportion it is faulty or innocent. It is (in St. Paul's similitude) either wool, hay, stubble, something that is merely lost labor, useless only, and insignificant and of no strength in the building, or else it is opposite to and destructive of the very foundation of the temple of God. It is (in the analogy of our Savior's parable) that which denominates a man either to be a vine, in which are many fruitless branches, or that he is a thorn or a bramble bush, from which it is impossible to expect there should ever at all be gathered figs or grapes.

COMFORTS OF RELIGION.

GREGORY.

THERE are many who have passed the age of youth and beauty, who have resigned the pleasures of that smiling season, who begin to decline into the vale of years, impaired in their health, depressed in their fortunes, stripped of their friends, their children, and perhaps still more tender connections. What resources can this world afford them? It presents a dark and dreary waste, through which there does not issue a single ray of comfort. Every delusive prospect of ambition is now at an end; long experience of mankind, an experience very different from what the open and generous soul of youth had fondly dreamt of, has rendered the heart almost inaccessible to new friendships. The principal sources of activity are taken away when those for whom we labor are cut off from us, those who animated, and those who sweetened all the toils of life. Where, then, can the soul find refuge but in the bosom of religion? There she is admitted to those prospects of providence and futurity which alene can warm and fill the heart. I speak here of such as retain the feelings of humanity, whom misfortunes have softened, and perhaps rendered more delicately sensible; not of such as possess that stupid insensibility which some are pleased to dignify with the name of philosophy.

It should, therefore, be expected that those philosophers who stand in no need themselves of the assistance of religion to support their virtue, and who never feel the want of its consolations, would yet have the humanity to consider the very different situation of the rest of mankind, and not endeavor to deprive them of what habit, at least, if they will not allow it to be nature, bas made necessary to their morals and to their happiness. It might be expected that humanity would prevent them from