slept." Yea, in triumphant hope the dying saint can sing: "God, my Redeemer, lives, And ever from the skies Looks down, and watches all my dust 'Till he shall bid it rise." The soul, in its pristine state, stood forth in the glorious image of its great Original. To this glory it may be restored. And as the body, when in union with the soul, uncontaminated by sin, was immortal, so, when reunited to the redeemed and purified spirit, it shall be glorified. Its vileness shall forever disappear, and it shall wear the glory of heaven's own light. No longer encumbered with its present appetencies, nor subject to decay, but "Forever happy, and forever young," it shall be a fit habitation for the soul, amid the unending joys, and increasing felicities of heaven. THE YOUNG SUPERANNUATE.* BY REV. WILLIAM FORD. He started while a youth: the rosy light Of twice ten summers scarce on him had shone, He ventured forth, in grateful haste to own Which changed to flesh his own proud heart of stone, And preach the gospel tidings to our sinful race. This subject was selected by special request.-S. P. He sought the fallen; and each holy day Poured forth his message o'er the listening throng: A light from heaven illumed his humble way; His days were crowned with peace, his nights with song; And 'midst the cares which to his work belong The burdens, toils, the trials, hopes and fears Which none with him can share,-his soul is strong; And faith and burning love atone for lack of years. The Lord was with him, giving to his speech His was the skill distinctly to define With logical precision what he taught;— With heavenly wisdom all his themes were fraught, Some heard delighted what he said or sung (For Truth finds favor with each upright mind), But some, who heard, with conscious guilt were stung; So eyes diseased e'en sunlight painful find. As when the skillful surgeon gives the blind The power again to view the landscape bright, Rejoices, grateful thus to bless his kind, So he, exultant in the Spirit's might, Rejoiced to spread the glorious beams of Gospel light. Just as the morn, which kisses first the East, Progresses till full-orbed we have the day; So through his labors God his church increased- Full many a sinful wanderer to the Savior brought. Through grace he counted worldly good but dross; Hung all his laurels on the bleeding cross; But while he labored thus mankind to bless It came not sudden, like the earthquake's tread, But as the lightning rives the living oak As anguish deep impelled his heart to pray, "Almighty God, I know thy ways are just, When thou dost lift the humble up on high,— To linger like some wounded, moaning bird, Or, like the stricken deer, which, bleeding, leaves the herd!" "I see the fields all for the harvest ripe, The golden grain, rich laden, bending low; And gather in their sheaves rejoicingly, Must I no more Truth's mighty battles see, "I know the world has ample good in store Than dancing meteors, which the selfish seek, Much less can he, who views mankind as bought By Christ, that all might be to God's salvation brought. "On me the knowledge of thy will bestow; I tremble lest I grieve the Holy Ghost. And, like some hero, perish at my post? Or wait and suffer were this course more meet? And on his pathway poured the beams of day. "Wait, child, and suffer," Jesus seemed to say, 66 My choice for thee and for my church is best." He heard; and as the watcher hails the ray That heralds morn's approach, serenely blest, He praised the Lord, and said, "Amen, 'tis thy behest." He ceased, and as the strife by winds and billows waged, His cup with sparkling water, all his soul And, as the dews of grace upon him stole Once more he vowed to strive to gain the heavenly goal. Hope sits enthroned upon his placid brow; Peace sways her sceptre o'er his stricken heart; He hears the shouting of the captains now, And in the conflict fain would bear a part: But Satan, though he plies his magic art To lead astray, nor yet the trump, which sounds The battle charge, and still his pulses start, THE CHRISTIAN PROFESSION. BY REV. W. A. MILLER. A religious life, both at its commencement and in its progress, is ever attended with more or less difficulty. It will, for instance, always be contrary to our natural inclinations, and ever be accompanied with selfdenial. The preciseness of its regimen can never be relaxed; the uncompromising character of its virtues can never be surrendered. Its "gate " will always be 66 straight," and its "way narrow." Only the "hungry" will ever be "filled," while the "proud” must always be sent empty away." The fundamental law, "ye must be born again," announced even to a master in Israel, has never been repealed, while a broken and a contrite heart are still the only acceptable sacrifice. And although the fires of persecution may slumber, and the civil arm be raised in the defence instead of the extirpation of the Christian professor, still, it is not without its perils. The antagonists of the Christian, if not as palpable as formerly, are, consequently, more insidious, numerous, and difficult to oppose. They may be found in our own hearts, where our judgment is less scrutinizing, and more partial, or among our associates, who may be our kindred, benefactors, or superiors. Our enemies may sometimes approach us with the charms of novelty-in the garb of a fascinating literature, or in the bold pretensions of a false philosophy. They may come in the name of benevolence or philanthropy, while, both in spirit and in principles, they subvert the |