which exalts us to the dignities and the glories of heaven; by how many is this salvation neglected and despised! hitherto has it been neglected; hitherto has it been refused by you. Yet it may be accepted; for yet it is offered. You are guilty, and you may be willing to remain guilty; you are depraved, and you are willing to remain depraved; you are lost, and lost you are willing to remain. Yet, however, God is not willing; yet he has not ratified your choice; yet the most guilty may be pardoned; the most depraved may be renewed; the most lost may be saved. This salvation are you willing now to accept-this salvation as a whole, and for Christ's sake? You now must either accept it, or reject it; not to accept it, know this, is to reject it. The consequences of this rejection are you willing or prepared to abide? It is a common saying, that "it will be all one a hundred years hence." Ay, ay, it will be all one as to the honours and the distinctions of time; it will be all one as to its glimmer and glory; all one whether you have been rich, or whether you have been poor; all one whether you have been a wandering beggar, or a crowned king; but when a thousand years have come and gone, will it be all one whether that thousand years has been spent amid the sanctities and the glories of heaven, or amid the pollutions and the pains of hell? Oh, no, that will not be all one. As it will not be all one then, neither is it all one now; for, according to your "sowing" here, will be, and must be, your "reaping" hereafter.

ANDERSON.

THE CHRISTIAN'S ENJOYMENT AND HOPE. 269

PRESENT ENJOYMENTS, AND FUTURE PROS-
PECTS OF THE CHRISTIAN.

SWEET is the privilege of prayer,
To bow before a throne of grace,
To leave our every burden there,

And gain new strength to run our race;
To gird our heavenly armour on,
Depending on the Lord alone!

And sweet the whisper of his love,

When conscience sinks beneath its load,
That bids our guilty fears remove,

And point to Christ's atoning blood.
Oh! then 't is sweet indeed to know,
God can be just and gracious too!

Sweet is the peace that Jesus gives,

When all around is dressed in gloom;
'Tis sweet to know the Saviour lives,
When friends are hurried to the tomb;
And those we love are snatch'd away,
Like flowers that wither in a day.

And oh, 't is sweet when we begin,
To find this earthly house give way,
To feel a principle within,

Rising superior to decay!

A hope implanted in the breast,
Bright foretaste of eternal rest!

But to behold Immanuel's face,

From sin and sorrow to be freed,
To dwell in his divine embrace,

This will be sweeter far indeed;
The fairest form of earthly bliss
Is less than nought compared with this,

And yet, through free and sovereign grace,
I hope ere long these joys to share;
Before the throne" to find a place,
That bright unfading crown to wear;
And join the ransom'd choir above,
To celebrate redeeming love.

ANONYMOUS.

DIRGE.

BE still! be still! let not a breath Disturb the solemn hour of death. Now let the spirit part in peace: For lo! the vital motions cease: The quivering limbs are now at rest: And now no struggle heaves the toiling breast.

O what an awful, awful hour! And how tremendous is the power That desolates the human frame; Extinguishes the living flame; The pulses of the panting heart Arrests, and bids the weary spirit part! Ye kindred spirits of the dead, Whither, O whither are ye fled? Now disengaged from earthly care, Tell me how fare ye: tell me where Ye sojourn: for I long to know If your awarded doom be weal or woe. But whatsoe'er thy lot may be, Poor parted spirit! ne'er can we Forget thy love in word and deed That makes the heart of friendship bleed; And makes me long, yet fear, to know

If thy awarded doom be weal or woe.

A FATHER'S EXTEMPORE CONSOLATION. 271

Here both the master and the slave
Lie without difference in the grave;
But, while they moulder in the tomb,
O who can say what different doom
May th' inmate of their dust await!
Or what betides their disembodied state.
No former wealth or rank can now
Distinguish between high and low:
And none can succour your distress,
O man, if proud and pitiless

In life, from your abundant store
You never succour'd or relieved the poor.
But if your pious bounty fed

The hungry, and the naked clad;
If e'er your sympathy beguiled
The sorrows of an orphan child,
Or soothed the widow's lonely grief;
Or to the woe-worn stranger dealt relief-
They on your unembodied state
Will in the time of trouble wait;
Your hour of awful peril know,
And shield you from the shafts of woe:
They will unclasp the book of gold,
And your recorded deeds of love unfold.

PROFESSOR RICHARDSON.

A FATHER'S EXTEMPORE CONSOLATION, &c. LET vulgar souls endure the body's chain, Till life's dull current ebbs in every vein, Dream out a tedious age ere, wide display'd, Death's blackest pinion wraps them in the shade: These happy infants, early taught to shun All that the world admires beneath the sun,

Scorn'd the weak bands mortality could tie,
And fled impatient to their native sky.

Dear precious babes !-alas! when, fondly wild,
A mother's heart hung melting o'er her child,
When my charm'd eye a flood of joy express'd,
And all the father kindled in my breast,

A sudden paleness seized each guiltless face,
And death, though smiling, crept o'er every grace.
Nature! be calm-heave not the impassion'd sigh,
Nor teach one tear to tremble in my eye.
A few unspotted moments pass'd between
Their dawn of being and their closing scene:
And sure no nobler blessing can be given,
When one short anguish is the price of heaven.
CAWTHORN.

ACTIVE DUTIES AFFORD RELIEF TO SORROW.

IN my judgment, one of the best proofs that sorrow has had its right effect on the mind is, that it has not incapacitated you for business;-your business being duties. I well know that under the pressure of heavy affliction it is more soothing to the heart to sink down into the enjoyment of a kind of sad indulgence, and to make itself believe that this is as right as it is gratifying; especially while it mixes some pious thoughts with this un profitable tranquillity. But who can say, even after the severest loss, I have no duties, no cares, in life remaining. Much less can a tender mother say it, who has still so many looking to her advice, and what is almost more, to her example. It is not the smallest part of the good that you may do them, to let them see what effect great trials have upon your mind, and that christianity enables