no less he garnished the heavens and created the whole host of them with the breath of his mouth, bringing the sun forth from his chamber every morning, with the joy of his bridegroom and a giant's strength, to shed his cheerful light over the face of creation, and draw blooming life from the cold bosom of the ground.-From him also was derived the wonderful workmanship of our frames-the eye, in whose small orb of beauty is pencilled the whole of heaven and of earth, for the mind to peruse and know and possess and rejoice over, even as if the whole universe were her own-the ear in whose vocal chambers are entertained harmonious numbers, the melody of rejoicing nature, the welcomes and salutations of friends, the whisperings of love, the voices of parents and of children, with all the sweetness that resideth in the tongue of man. His also is the gift of the beating heart, flooding all the hidden recesses of the human frame with the tide of lifehis the cunning of the hand, whose workmanship turns rude and raw materials to pleasant forms and wholesome uses,―his the whole vital frame of man, a world of wonders within itself, a world of bounty, and, if rightly used, a world of finest enjoyments. His also the mysteries of the soul within the judgment, which weighs in a balance all contending thoughts, extracting wisdom out of folly, and extricating order out of confusion; the memory, recorder of the soul, in whose books are chronicled the accidents of the changing world, and the fluctuating moods of the mind itself; fancy, the eye of the soul, which scales the heavens and circles round the verge and circuits

of all possible existence; hope, the purveyor of happiness, which peoples the hidden future with brighter forms and happier accidents than ever possessed the present, offering to the soul the foretaste of every joy; affection, the nurse of joy, whose full bosom can cherish a thousand objects without being impoverished, but rather replenished, a storehouse inexhaustible towards the brotherhood and sisterhood of this earth, as the storehouse of God is inexhaustible to the universal world; finally, conscience, the arbitrator of the soul, and the touchstone of the evil and the good, whose voice within our breast is the echo of the voice of God.-These, all these, whose varied action and movement constitutes the maze of thought, the mystery of life, the continuous chain of being-God hath given us to know that we hold of his hand, and during his pleasure, and out of the fulness of his care.

IRVING.

ON THE

INSTABILITY OF EARTHLY THINGS. THE moon is incessantly varying, either in her aspect or her stages. Sometimes she looks full upon us, and her visage is all lustre. Sometimes she appears in profile, and shows us only half her enlightened face. Anon, a radiant crescent but just adorns her brow. Soon it dwindles into a slender streak: till, at length, all her beauty vanishes, and she becomes a beamless orb. Sometimes she rises with the descending day, and be

gins her procession amidst admiring multitudes. Ere long, she defers her progress till the midnight watches, and steals unobserved upon the sleeping world. Sometimes she just enters the edges of the western horizon, and drops us a ceremonious visit. Within a while, she sets out on her nightly tour from the opposite regions of the east; traverses the whole hemisphere, and never offers to withdraw, till the more refulgent partner of her sway renders her presence unnecessary. In a word, she is, while conversant among us, still waxing or waning, and “ never continueth in one stay.'

Such is the moon, and such are all sublunary things exposed to perpetual vicissitudes. How often and how soon have the faint echoes of renown slept in silence, or been converted into the clamours of obloquy! The same lips, almost with the same breath, cry, Hosanna and Crucify!— Have not riches confessed their notorious treachery a thousand and a thousand times? Either melting away like snow in our hands, by insensible degrees, or escaping, like a winged prisoner from its cage, with a precipitate flight. Have we not known the bridegroom's closet an antichamber to the tomb; and heard the voice which so lately pronounced the sparkling pair husband and wife, proclaim an everlasting divorce? and seal the decree, with that solemn asseveration, "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust!"Our friends, though the medicine of life; our health, though the balm of nature, are a most precarious possession. How soon may the first become a corpse in our arms; and how easily is

the last destroyed in its vigour!-You have seen, no doubt, a set of pretty painted birds perching on your trees, or sporting in your meadows. You were pleased with the lovely visitants, that brought beauty on their wings, and melody in their throats. But could you insure the continuance of this agreeable entertainment? No, truly. At the least disturbing noise, at the least terrifying appearance, they start from their seats; they mount the skies, and are gone in an instant, are gone for ever. Would you choose to have a happiness which bears date with their arrival, and expires at their departure? If you could not be content with a portion, enjoyable only through such a fortuitous term, not of years, but of moments, O! take up with nothing earthly; set your affections on things above; there alone is no variableness or shadow of turning."

66

HERVEY.

THE

WORLD AND THE GOSPEL CONTRASTED.

BUT it may be said, Is the Gospel then that austere and gloomy system that commands us to renounce enjoyments naturally arising from social intercourse? No, my brethren; religion, being founded on benevolence, cannot be the enemy to any gratification that innocently contributes to the happiness of life. St. Paul expressly directs Christians to rejoice with those that rejoice, as well as weep with them that weep; and Jesus Christ himself, we know, was seated at the table

of the Pharisee, and sanctified by his presence the marriage feast of Cana. But we are not to confound what our rule clearly admits with what the temper of the world would suppose it to admit. Though it may, in a degree, lead to repetition, I will submit the difference in a word. Never to appear in society, but with a view to improvement and edification; never to keep up a single acquaintance the most distantly dangerous to our spiritual intercourse; never to cultivate friends, or even relatives, that are not religious and virtuous; never omit rendering, in the particular duties of our station, the means of salvation to ourselves and others: this is the Gospel. To neglect occupations the most sacred and important; to run indiscreetly, and without choice, into every circle that will admit us; to consume our precious time in idle visits and ceremonials; to live only in the confusion of night and day, amidst laborious amusements, that always end in inevitable disgust, that capital enemy, which we are eternally banishing and eternally calling up: this is the World. Inviolably to respect our superfluities as the patrimony of the poor; to be distinguished in high station, neither by too much magnificence nor too much simplicity, to regulate our train and expense invariably below our rank and revenues; to think more of decency than of lustre and show: this is the Gospel. To be swayed in those things, only by established fashion, however wild, extravagant, and contemptible; to labour who shall outdo the other in excessive and luxurious entertainments; to starve a family for a month in order to glitter for a night; to