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The irony here is very apparent. The sacred Poet shows a wonderful address in managing this deriding figure of speech in such a manner as not to lessen the Majesty of the great Being into whose mouth it is put, Hast thou played with him as a bird ?Wilt thou encage him for thy maidens ? Shall thy partners spread a banquet for him,

And the trading strangers bring him portions?

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Job is here asked how he will dispose of his captive. Whether he will retain him in his family for his own amusement, or the diversion of his maidens; or exhibit him as a spectacle to the Phœnician caravans. But Mr. Vansittart gives quite another turn to the verse. He thinks the word CHABARIM, which I have rendered "partners," signiLes charmers; (incantatores ;) hence rendered by the Chaldee Targum, wise-men; and that it is to be applied to the Priests who had the charge of the sacred Crocodile, and might as well be called charmers of the Crocodile, as the psylli were of serpents: andy, which is at present rendered "merchants," may be formed from prostravit, humilem reddere, and mean suppliants, worshippers. Hence he would understand it of the PRIESTS making a feast, and the SUPPLIANTS going up to make offerings.

Has thou filled his skin with barbed irons,

Or his head with harpoons?

The impenetrability of his skin is here intimated, and is afterwards described at large. The attempt to wound him with missile weapons is ridiculed. This is a circumstance

which will agree to no animal so well as to the crocodile. The weapons mentioned are undoubtedly such as fishermen use in striking large fish at a distance.

Make ready thy hand against him. Dare the contest; be firm. Behold! the hope of bim is vain; It is dissipated even at his appearance. The hope of mastering him is absurd. So formidable is his very appearance that the resolution of his opposer is weakened, and his courage daunted.

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However man may be appalled at attacking the Leviathan, all ereation is mine, his magnitude and structure can produce no effect upon me. I cannot be appalled or corfounded; I cannot be struck dumb."

Job is, in this clause, taught to tremble at his danger in having provoked, by his murmurs and litigation, the displeasure of the Maker of this terrible animal.

The Poet then enters upon a part of the description which has not yet been given, and which admirably pairs with the detailed picture of the war-horse and Behemoth. Nor does he descend from the dignity he had hitherto supported, by representing the great Creator as displaying his own wonderful work, and calling upon man to observe the several admirable particulars in its formation, that he might be impressed with a deeper sense of the power of his

Maker.

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Against the doubling of his nostrils

who will advance?

This verse is obscure. The first

line, however, seems to describe the terrible helmet which covers the head and face of the crocodile. The translation might be, "Who can uncover his mailed face?" If in the days of Job they covered their warhorses in complete armour, the question will refer to the taking off the armour; and the scales of Leviathan be represented by such an imagé. Then the second line may denote bridling him, after the armour is stripped off for some other service.. The doors of his face who will tear open?

The rows of his teeth are TERROR ;
The plates of his scales, TRIUMPH!
His body is like embossed shields,
They are joined so close one upon ano-
ther,

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His snortings are the radiance of light; And his eyes as the glaucings of the dawu.

Schultens remarks, that amphibious animals, the longer time they hold their breath under water, respire so much the more strongly when they begin to emerge; and the breath confined for a length of time, effervesces in such a manner, and breaks forth so violently, that they appear to vomit forth flames,

The eyes of the Crocodile are small, but they are said to be extremely piercing out of the water. Hence, the Egyptians comparing the eye of the Crocodile, when he first emerged out of the water, to the sun rising from out of the sea, in which he was supposed to set, made it the hieroglyphic of sunrise. Thus. Horus Apol. says, lib. i. see. 65, "When the Egyptians represent the sun-rise, they paint the eye of the crocodile, because it is first seen as that animal rises out of the water."

From out of his mouth issue flashes; Sparks of fire stream out, From his nostrils bursteth fume, As from the rush-kindled oven. His breath kindleth coals; Raging fire spreadeth at his presence. Here the creature is described in pursuit of his prey on the land. His mouth is then open. His breath is thrown out with prodigious vehemence it appears like smoke; and is heated to that degree as to seein a flaming fire.

The images which the sacred Poet here uses are indeed very strong and hyperbolical; they are similar to those in Psal. xviii. 8: “There went a smoke out of his nostrils, and fire out of his mouth devoured: coals were kindled by it. Ovid, Metam.

viii., does not scruple to paint the enraged boar in figures equally bold : "Fulmen ab ore venit, froudesque adflatibus ardent."

Lightning issueth from his mouth, and boughs are set on fire by his breath. Silius Italicus, 1. vi. v. 208, has a correspondent description :— In his neck dwelleth MIGHT; And DESTRUCTION exulteth before him.

Might and destruction are here personified. The former is seated on his neck, as indicating his power, or guiding his movements; and the him when he pursues his prey, to latter as leaping and dancing before express the terrible slaughter which he makes.

The flakes of his flesh are compacted They are firm, and will in no wise give together,

way.

His heart is as hard as a stone,
Yea, as hard as the nether mill-stone.

not only a material but also a moral These strong similes may denote hardness, his savage and unrelenting nature. Elian calls the Crocodile, "A voracious devourer of flesh, and the most pitiless of animals."

At his rising the mighty are alarmed; Frighted at the disturbance which he The sword of the assailant is shivered makes in the water.

at the onset,

As is the spear, the dart, or the harpoon.
He regardeth iron as straw,
Copper as rotten wood.

The arrow cannot make him flee,
Sling-stones he deemeth trifling;
Like stubble is the battle-axe reputed;
And he laugheth at the quivering of
the javelin.

These expressions describe, in a lively manner, the strength, courage, and intrepidity of the Crocodile. Nothing frightens him. If any one attack him, neither swords, darts, nor javelins avail against him. Tra Crocodile is proof against pointed vellers agree that the skin of the weapons,

His bed is the spliuters of flint, -a Which the broken rock scattereth on the mud.

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This clause is obscure, and has been variously rendered. The idea seems to be, that he can repose him

self on sharp pointed rocks and stones with as little concern as upon mud.

He maketh the main to boil as a caul-
dron :

He souffeth up the tide as a perfume.
Behind him glittereth a pathway;
The deep is embroidered with hoar.

To give a further idea of the force of this creature, the Poet describes the effect of his motion in the water. When a large Crocodile dives to the bottom, the violent agitation of the water may be justly compared to liquor boiling in a caldron. When swimming upon the surface, he cuts the water like a ship, and makes it white with foam; at the same time his tail, like a rudder, causes the waves behind him to froth and sparkle like a trail of light. These images are common among the poets. Thus Homer, Odyss. 1. xii. v. 235, as translated by Pope,

"tumultuous boil the waves; They toss, they foam, a wild confusion raise,

Like waters bubbling o'er the fiery

blaze."

He hath not his like upon earth,
Even among those made not to be
daunted. bib

He looketh upon every thing with
haughtiness;

He is king over all the sons of the fierce. `

Mr. Good observes, that all the interpreters appear to have run into an error, in conceiving that "the sons of pride or haughtiness, in the original, refer to wild beasts, or monsters of enormous size; it is far more confounding to the haughtiness and exultation of man,

to that undue confidence in his own power which it is the very object of this sublime address to humiliate, to have pointed out to him, even among the brute creation, a being which he dares not to encounter, and which laughs at all his pride, and pomp, and pretensions, and compels him to feel in all these respects his real littleness and inferiority. It is difficult, perhaps impossible, to find a description so admirably sustained in any language of any age or country. The whole appears to be of a piece, and equally excellent."-Hurris's Natural History of the Bible.

ON CONVERSATION. I To the Editor of the Wesleyan-Methodist Magazine. ETERNITY! Were this one word to vibrate with its full emphasis on any human spirit, how would that spirit watch, and weep, and pray! And as every thing we think, or say, or do, will assuredly give a colouring to our everlasting destiny, nothing can be deemed trivial which is capable of producing one right or wrong feeling. If, then, from only one right or wrong feeling, may issue results of interminable gain or loss; how guarded, how circumspect, how vigilant will those persons be who are fully apprized of their real situation! Let this thought connect itself with the subject of conversation, and we shall perceive a train of consequences appended to all our intercourse with others, of 'a' magnitude and extent almost surpassing belief.""

word, either of folly or of wisdom, taken deep hold on our memories, and radicated in our inmost souls ? particularly when that one word has been spoken by a man of influence and authority. If the saying had on it the stamp of wisdom, we have gathered from it instruction of incalculable value: but if that one word happened to bear the mark of folly, we have not failed to bring it forward on many occasions to sanction our own folly; and even when we have forborne to do that wrong to ourselves, we have felt it produce a lessening of our respectful attention to what might hereafter fall from the same lips.

Have we not often, from the company with whom we have only occasionally or casually mixed, received an abihing impression? Has not a single

If then abiding consequences necessarily flow from all our associations with others, will it not follow, that every Christian should be very choice in the society to which he resorts? It will be scarcely possible for the most heavenly-minded man to mix with worldly persons, with

out feeling the chilling influence of the atmosphere of ungodliness: whilst, on the other hand, in converse with those whose hearts and treasure are in heaven, an attractive and sancti fying effect will be wrought by that gratious Spirit, whose office it is to draw all the living members nearer to their living Head.

May not a Christian comprise all the rules he wishes to observe in conversation within the small and simple compass of, First, abstaining from speaking on any topic which cannot afford some benefit to the hearer: and, Secondly, by introducing such remarks, or proposing such subjects, as will lead to profitable discussions? When a Christian is accosted by

to

others, he will, both from choice
and necessity, reply to them in a
courteous and becoming manner :
but, supposing the discourse
have no beneficial tendency, it will
be with a conciseness which will
check farther unprofitable observas
tions. If the painter bestowed such
immense pains on his picture, be-
cause he was painting for what he
called immortality; with what cau-
tion, with what assiduity, ought those
lines to be drawn on the mind which
are destined to an indelible existence
there?

Let it then be remembered that
CONVERSATION gives character to
ETERNITY.

W.

at the age of seventeen he sailed from Barfleur, to return to England with his father. Thomas FitzStephens, whose ancestor had carried over William to his invasion of England, petitioned for the honour of conveying the King. Henry had chosen his ship, and would not change it; but, pleased with the little compliment of the request, he allowed the man to take his darling son, with the rest of his family; and a crowd of young nobility, their attendants and companions. At twilight the King sailed, and reached England the next day at the same time the vessel with the Prince left the shore with fifty rowers.

FATAL EFFECTS OF INTOXICATION. KING Henry I., surnamed Beau clerk, who reigned from 1100 to 1135, having arranged Normandy again into peace and good order, prepared to return to England in 1120, surrounded with felicity. But at the very moment when he seemed to have emerged out of all adversity, his personal happiness was destroyed by an irreparable evil,-the sudden loss of an only son, a Prince censured by the religious for his pride, pomp, and luxury, but popular among the people, because born an Englishman, and descended by his mother from the revered Anglo, Saxon line of Alfred and Cerdric. His father had educated him with the fondest care, and, intending him for his successor, had already procured all the freemen of England and Normandy to swear fealty to him. His marriage with the Earl of Anjou's daughter had brought him her dowry, the province of Maine; and the Earl having gone to Jerusalem, had left his states in the hand of Henry, in trust for his son. With all the foresight and contrivance of worldly prudence, Henry had thus secured for the Prince the largest share of greatness that lay within his immediate reach. But human providence is not invested with the sovereignty of life. The Prince wanted nothing but the name of King, when

Unfortunately, the sailors solicited him for wine, and in the gaiety of youth he distributed it profusely. The seamen, the captain, his friends, all became intoxicated; and in this state a giddy desire arose to pass by every ship that was before them. The emulating whim was instantaneously adopted; every arm was exerted, every eye was intent on this single object; and the ship was flying with all the velocity that unusuallyexerted strength could give her, in a fine calm moonlight, when, by the heedlessness of the inebriated helmsman, she struck suddenly on a rock' near the shore, then covered with waves, but known and visible at low

water. The shock burst through two planks on the left side of the vessel, and the sea entered fast. The Prince got into a little boat, and was escaping, when he heard the voice of his sister shrieking to him to help her. He put back to the ship to take her in; but at the same time go many leaped into it, that it sank, and every one on board. The ship soon disappeared under the waves, with all its erew, three hundred in number, excepting two persons, a young nobleman and a butcher, who held clinging to the top of the mast.

The captain rose from his first descent, and might have saved himself; but finding that the Prince was drowned, and having nothing but death or a dungeon to expect from the King, he plunged into the waves and was lost. The severe cold of the night, for it was in December, occasioned the nobleman to lose his hoid, and he sunk, uttering a prayer for his companion's safety. The

butcher, the poorest and the hardiest of the whole crew, kept himself above water, in his garment of sheepskin, till morning, when some fishermen saw him, and carried him ashore quite exhausted. Recovering, he related the catastrophe. It soon reached the palace; but no one dared mention it to the anxious King, who continued all the following day to expect his son, and wondering at his absence. Even they who had lost their own beloved friends, restrained themselves in his presence. When the truth could no longer be withheld, a little hoy was sent in to communicate it. The King fell speechless to the ground: his friends raised him; he revived, and burst into bitter lamentations. His courtiers were as deeply affected for the flower of the young nobility, one hundred and forty in number, who had perished with his children.-Turner's Hist. of England.

ORIGINAL LETTER OF THE REV. MR. GRIMSHAW. To Mr. George Merryweather, in Yarm.

Haworth, June 22d, 1759.

DEAR BROTHER, GRACE, mercy, and peace, be to you from God our Father, and from our Lord Jesus Christ. I am sorry I have no more leisure to write a longer letter to you, being in haste to set out to meet Mr. Whitefield, who, God willing, preaches here both forenoon and afternoon of Sunday next. My journey into the north was quite agreeable to inyself; may it prove profitable to the souls of inany! To the Lord be the glory! Whether I may have the pleasure to visit you again this season, I dare not certainly say, as I have various parts to visit this summer. This, however, I shall he better able to determine at the Conference.

I beseech you, dear Brother, by the mercies of God, that as you have received Christ Jesus the Lord, you may so walk in Him. If you be in the Spirit, walk in the Spirit. Happy are you in this case; yea, blessed are you, that have the Lord for your

God; even Jesus for your "wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption." What He is, He will be to you for ever. What He has begun, He will accomplish in you. Faithful is He, who hath promised, who also will do it." He hath made unto you, upon the faithfulness of God, all his promises, yea and amen. Yea, all things are yours, and you are Christ's, as He is God's. Give all diligence, therefore, to make your calling and election sure. Remember, study, apply well to heart and practice, that golden climax, that divine gradation of St. Peter, 2 Epistle i. 5-7, and then see how it will be with you; ver. 8th; that you may be a burning and shining light in your generation! And as it has pleased our Redeemer, not only to implant his divine nature in your heart, but to put his word also into your mouth, speak and spare not. Exercise your talent to the uttermost, and you shall always see, as I dare say you have already done, that your labour is not in vain in the Lord.

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