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mere occasional transition from one frame of mind and spirits to another.

THE religious profession and opinions of some have too much of mere machinery in their composition. If every wheel, pivot, chain, spring, cog, or pinion be not exactly in its place, or move not precisely according to a favourite and prescribed system, the whole is rejected as unworthy of regard.

-126.

MUSIC, when judiciously brought into the service of religion, is one of the most delightful and not least efficacious means of grace.-155.

ISAIAH VI. 3.

THOUGH Holy, holy, holy Lord,
Seraph to seraph sings,

And angel-choirs with one accord

Worship with veiled wings;

Tho' earth Thy footstool, heaven Thy throne,
amidst the sea,

Thy way

Thy path deep floods, Thy steps unknown,
Thy counsels mystery ;

Yet wilt Thou look on' him who lies

A suppliant at Thy feet,
And listen to the feeblest cries

That reach Thy mercy-seat.

Between the cherubim of old

Thy glory was express'd;

And God through Christ we now behold
In flesh made manifest.

Through Him who all our sickness felt,
Who all our sorrows bore,

Through Him in whom thy fulness dwelt,
We offer up our prayer.

Touch'd with a feeling of our woes,
Jesus our High Priest stands;

All our infirmities He knows,

Our souls are in His hands.

He bears them up with strength divine
When at Thy feet we fall.

Lord, cause Thy face on us to shine;
Hear us on Thee we call!

--Montgomery.

PSALM XXXIII. 5.

THERE's not a bird (with lonely nest
In pathless wood, or mountain crest),
Nor meaner thing, which does not share,
O God! in Thy paternal care.

Each barren crag, each desert rude,
Hold Thee within its solitude ;

And Thou dost bless the wand'rer there
Who makes his solitary prayer.

In busy mart and crowded street,
No less than in the still retreat,
Thou, Lord, art near, our souls to bless
With all a parent's tenderness.

And ev'ry moment still doth bring
Thy blessings on its loaded wing;
Widely they spread through earth and sky,
And last to all eternity.

Through all creation let Thy name
Be echoed with a glad acclaim;
Thy praise let grateful churches sing;
With praise let heaven for ever ring.

And we, where'er our lot is cast,
While life, and thought, and feeling last,
Through all our years, in ev'ry place,
Will bless Thee for Thy boundless grace.

PSALM XXIII. 6.

WHEN all Thy mercies, O my God,
My rising soul surveys,
Transported with the view, I'm lost
In wonder, love, and praise.

Ten thousand thousand precious gifts
My daily thanks employ;

Nor is the least a cheerful heart

To taste those gifts with joy. Unnumber'd comforts to my soul Thy tender care bestow'd Before my infant heart conceiv'd

From whom those comforts flow'd.

-Noel.

When in the slippery paths of youth,
With heedless steps I ran,

Thine arm, unseen, convey'd me safe,
And led me up to man.

Through hidden dangers, toils, and death.
It gently clear'd my way,

And through the pleasing snares of vice,
More to be fear'd than they.

When worn with sickness, oft hast Thou
With health renew'd my face;

And, when in sins and sorrows sunk,
Reviv'd my soul with

grace.

Through every period of my life
Thy goodness I'll pursue;
And after death, in distant worlds,
The glorious theme renew.

Through all eternity to Thee
A joyful song I'll raise;
But oh! eternity 's too short
To utter all Thy praise!

PSALM XXXI. 15.

SOV'REIGN ruler of the skies,
Ever gracious, ever wise,
All my times are in Thy hand,
All events at Thy command.

Plagues and death around me fly;
Till He bids I cannot die :
Not a single shaft can hit
Till the God of love sees fit.

How helpless guilty nature lies,
Unconscious of its load!

The heart unchang'd can never rise
To happiness and God.

The will perverse, the passions blind,
In paths of ruin stray:
Reason debas'd can never find

The safe, the narrow way.

-Addison.

-Ryland.

Can aught beneath a power divine,
The stubborn will subdue ?
'Tis thine, Eternal Spirit, thine,
To form the heart anew.
"Tis thine the passions to recall,
And upward bid them rise,
And make the scales of error fall
From reason's darken'd eyes;

To chase the shades of night away,
And bid the sinner live:
A beam of heaven, a vital ray,
'Tis thine alone to give.

COME, Holy Spirit, from above,
Eternal source of heavenly love,

Our hearts attune, our tongues inspire,
That we may emulate the choir

That, without ceasing, hymn His praise,
The Ancient of eternal days.

-Steele.

MEMOIR OF THE REV. CORNELIUS NEALE.-BY MRS. NEALE.

Be not scurrilous in thy conversation, nor satirical in thy jests: the one will make thee unwelcome in all company, and the other will pull on quarrels, and get thee hatred of thy best friends. For sulphurous jests, when they savour too much of truth, leave a bitterness in the minds of those that are touched. I think it necessary to leave it to thee as a special caution; because I have seen many so prone to quip and gird, as they would rather lose their friend than their jest.—Lord Burghley to his Son.

WHEN those who have been religiously trained are not truly living up to the light of conscience, their playful satire, glancing at well-known pious characters, may, indeed, be free from that bitterness with which a wicked man vituperates the godly still there is a venom in the humour of such satirists, peculiarly subtle in its reaction upon themselves.

HE frequently spoke to me on the subject of the childrens' education, confirming the opinion often expressed in health, that if a mother were under the influence of real religion, and possessing a tolerable degree of judgment, no superior qualifications in others could at all make up for the absence of

maternal watchfulness, which would more than supply the place of all these, and render her care, even of a son, as long as it was possible to watch over him, invaluable.

HE was interred in Chiswick churchyard, and the following lines were written by his father-in-law (John Mason Good, M.D.) as an "Epitaph on an Unnamed Saint." ... Allusion is made in the sixth line to an inscription still existing on the churchyard wall, stating that it had been built in 1623, "at ye charge of Lord Francis Russelle."

"O spot rever'd! though thou may'st hold,
Within thy consecrated mould,

Names more familiar to the great,
And wider fam'd for wealth or state;
Yet never, since the hallow'd hour

When Russell rais'd thy wall t'embower,
Against the last trump's dread alarm,

The wardrobe of God's saints' from harm,-
No, never hast thou, holy earth,

Clasp'd in thy womb more gentle worth,
A form more dear to man or God,
Than now reclines beneath thy sod!
Let Cam's green banks, from cell to cell,
Still on the echoing plaudits dwell,
That rung when in his year he bore
All the joint wreaths of college-lore :-
Here, in this gloom, be told alone
The higher virtues, after shown,
When the pure altar and the hearth
Gave new and nobler feelings birth;
And fram'd a pattern none could see,
But love, and laud, and wish to be!

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ONE supreme consideration, which should be distinctly presented to those who appear tending towards despondency and unbelief, is, that, living as we do under a dispensation of mercy, no greater crime can exist, no greater instance of presumption against the majesty of an exalted Saviour can be exhibited, than that of despair.-Neale.

I CERTAINLY can think no worse of the man who feels an awe and a shuddering when about to enter into the immediate presence of his God.

LET us not think that there is no happiness on earth —nothing of heaven to be enjoyed here. Enoch thought not so;

PP

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