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66. HEAVEN.-Anonymous.

1. This world's not "all a fleeting show,
For man's illusion given-"
He that hath sooth'd a widow's wo,
Or wip'd an orphan's tear, doth know
There's something here of Heaven.

2. And he that walks life's thorny way
With feelings calm and even,
Whose path is lit, from day to day,
By virtue's bright and steady ray,
Hath something felt of Heaven,

3. He that the Christian's course hath run,
And all his foes forgiven,

Who measures out life's little span
In love to God, and love to man,
On earth hath tasted Heaven.

67. RELIGION.-Rev. Alva Wood.

1. While we are disposed to allow, to their full extent, the pleasures of literary pursuit, and the important advantages of intellectual illumination, it must be confessed, that man has wants which nothing can supply, and woes which nothing can relieve, but the sanative influence of religion.

2. What can moderate anger, resentment, malice, or revenge, like the thought, that we may ask God to forgive our trespasses, only as we forgive the trespasses of others? What can quiet murmurings at our lot, like the deep sense of moral demerit, which the gospel presses on the conscience? What can cool the burnings of envy, or allay the passion for renown. like a remembrance of the transitory nature of all human glory.

3. What can produce resignation to the loss of friends, like a confident hope of meeting them soon in a brighter world? What can prompt to deeds of benevolence, like the example

of Him, who, though he was rich, for our sakes, became poor? Is there any thing which can give steadiness to purpose, or stability to character, like an unwavering regard to the will of God?

4. Considerations of mere worldly policy, or interest, furnish no steady magnetic influence to give one uniform direction to all the plans and actions of life. Patriotism may fire the spirit with valor, to sustain the onset of an invading foe, and bare the breast to the rushing tide of war;-but who can meet with unruffled temper, the thousand petty ills that life is heir to, like him whose aim is heaven?

5. What sublimity, like moral sublimity, whether we regard the grandeur, or permanency of its effects? What more sublime than the triumph of a dying Christian when, in the midst of its decaying and crumbling habitation, the spirit plumes itself for its lofty flight, and departs in the buoyancy of hope, for the regions of eternal day? These are the gifts of Christianity.

6. But it is on man, in his social capacities, and political relations, that moral principle is destined to exert its most important influence. It is in society that man has power. It is in society, that virtue developes its benevolent tendencies, and that vice scatters fire-brands, arrows, and death. Has the example of vice wrought powerfully? so has that of virtue. Have many been beguiled to their destruction by the enticings of the sinful? multitudes have been allured by the persuasions of the good, to fairer worlds on high.

This extract is from the Rev. Mr. Wood's discourse at his inauguration, as president of the Transylvania University, October 13, 1828. He succeeded Dr. Holley.

68. GOD'S INCOMPREHENSIBILITY.-Dr. Chalmers.

1. While the spirituality of God's nature places him beyond the reach of our direct cognizance, there are certain other essential properties of his nature, which place him beyond the reach of our possible comprehension. Let me instance the past eternity of the Godhead. One might figure a futurity that never ceases to flow, and which has no termina

tion; but who can climb his ascending way, among the obscurities of that infinite which is behind him?

2. Who can travel in thought, along the track of genera tions gone by, till he has overtaken the eternity, which lies in that direction? Who can look across the millions of ages which have elapsed, and from an ulterior post of observation, look again to another, and another succession of centuries; and from each further extremity in this series of retrospects, stretch backward his regards on an antiquity, as remote and indefinite as ever? Could we, by any number of successive strides over these mighty intervals, at length, reach the fountainhead of duration, our spirits might be at rest.

3. But to think of duration, as having no fountain-head; to think of time, with no beginning; to uplift the imagination along the heights of an antiquity, which hath positively no summit; to soar these upward steeps, till, dizzied by the altitude, we can keep no longer on the wing; for the mind to make these repeated flights from one pinnacle to another, and instead of scaling the mysterious elevation, to lie baffled at its foot, or lose itself among the far, the long-withdrawing recesses of that primeval distance, which at length, merges away into a fathomless unknown-this is an exercise, utterly discomfiting to the puny faculties of maŋ.

This extract is from the works of Rev. Thomas Chalmers, LL. D., of Edinburgh, on "Natural Theology."

69. MISSIONARY HYMN.-Bishop Heber.

1. From Greenland's icy mountains,
From India's coral strand;
Where Afric's sunny fountains
Roll down their golden sand;
From many an ancient river,
From many a palmy plain,
They call us to deliver

Their land from error's chain.

2. What though the spicy breezes
Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle,

Though every prospect pleases,
And only man is vile?
In vain with lavish kindness,
The gifts of God are strown,
The heathen, in his blindness,
Bows down to wood and stone.

3. Shall we, whose souls are lighted
With wisdom from on high;
Shall we, to men benighted,
The lamp of life deny?
Salvation! O Salvation!

The joyful sound proclaim,
Till earth's remotest nation
Has learnt Messiah's name.

4. Waft, waft, ye winds, his story;
And you, ye waters, roll,
Till, like a sea of glory,

It spreads from pole to pole;
Till o'er our ransomed nature,
The Lamb, for sinners slain,
Redeemer, King, Creator,
In bliss returns to reign.

This popular hymn was written by the bishop, just before he left England for India. Like all other solemn pieces of poetry, it requires long quantity, and rather a low key. The voice should, however, be somewhat elevated on the words in italic, and yet not enough to be disagreeable to

the ear.

70. SOLILOQUY ON THE PRINCESS THEKLA.-Frederic Schiller.

1. It is his spirit calls me! 'Tis the host
Of faithful souls that sacrificed themselves
In fiery vengeance for him. They upbraid me
For this loit'ring,-they in death forsook him not
Who in their life had led them; their rude hearts
Were capable of this; and I can live;—
No! No! That laurel garland which they laid
Upon his bier was twined for both of us!

What is this life without the light of love?
I cast it from me since its worth is gone.
Yes, when we found and loved each other, life
Was something! Glittering lay before me
The golden morn; I had two hours of heaven.

2. Thou stoodest at the threshold of the scene
Of busy life; with timid steps it cross'd it:
How fair it lay in solemn shade and sheen!
And thou beside me, like some angel, posted
To lead me out of childhood's fairy land,
On to life's glancing summit, hand in hand!
My first thought was of joy no tongue can tell,
My first look on thy spotless spirit fell.

And Fate put forth its hand,-inexorable, cold,
My friend it grasp'd, and clutch'd with iron hold,—
And- -under the hoofs of their wild horses hurl'd,—
Such is the fate of loveliness i' th' world!

This beautiful Soliloquy is from the tragedy of Wallenstine, written by the celebrated German poet, Schiller. He died in the year 1805 in the 45th year of his age. The Princess Thekla had been married, it seems, but two hours before her husband was killed. The Soliloquy requires to be given on a low key, with quantity, and rhetorical pauses.

71. LINES FOR THE FOURTH OF JULY,—Anonymous.

1. Hail our country's natal morn!
Hail our spreading kindred born!
Hail thou banner not yet torn!
Waving o'er the free!

2. While this day in festal throng.
Millions swell the patriot song,
Shall not we thy notes prolong,
Hallowed jubilee?

3 Who would sever freedom's shrine?
Who would draw the invidious line?
Though by birth one spot be mine,
Dear is all the rest.

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