would imprint in our minds such a constant and uninterrupted awe and veneration as that which I am here recommending, and which is in reality a kind of incessant prayer, and reasonable humiliation of the soul before him who made it.

This would effectually kill in us all the little seeds of pride, vanity, and self-conceit, which are apt to shoot up in the minds of such whose thoughts turn more on those comparative advantages which they enjoy over some of their fellow-creatures, than on that infinite distance which is placed between them and the supreme model of all perfection. It would likewise quicken our desires and endeavours of uniting ourselves to him by all the acts of religion and virtue.

Such an habitual homage to the Supreme Being would, in a particular manner, banish from among us that prevailing impiety of using his name on the most trivial occasions.

I find the following passage in an excellent sermon, preached at the funeral of a gentleman, who was an honour to his country, and a more diligent as well as successful inquirer into the works of nature than any other nation has ever produced. "He had the profoundest veneration for the great God of heaven and earth that I have ever observed in any person. The very name of God was never mentioned by him without a pause and a visible stop in his discourse, in which one that knew him most particularly above twenty years, has told me that he was so exact, that he does not remember to have observed him once to fail in it.”

Every one knows the veneration which was paid by the Jews to a name so great, wonderful, and holy. They would not let it enter even into their religious discourses. What can we then think of those who make use of so tremendous a name in the ordinary expressions of their anger, mirth, and most impertinent passions? of those who admit it into the most familiar questions and assertions, ludicrous phrases, and works of humour? not to mention those who violate it by solemn perjuries? It would be an affront to reason to endeavour to set forth the horror and profaneness of such a practice. The very mention of it exposes it sufficiently to those in whom the light of nature, not to say religion, is not utterly extinguished.-ADDISON.

1. It was not by Dionysius but by Hiero that this famous question was put to Simonides.

2. Addison refers to Bishop Burnet's Sermon, preached at the funeral of the Hon. Robert Boyle.

3. JEHOVAH is the name by which the Deity is represented in the Hebrew Scrip

tures; in which language it signifies the Self-existent, the I am. The word itself was held in peculiar veneration by the Jews, who never allowed themselves to pronounce it in the reading of their sacred books, but substituted for it the term Adonai, Lord, wherever it occurred.

THERE is nothing more awful than to attempt to cast a glance among the clouds and mists which hide the broken extremity of the celebrated bridge of Mirza. Yet when every day brings us nigher that termination, one would almost think our views should become clearer. Alas! it is not so: there is a curtain to be withdrawn, a veil to be rent, before we shall see things as they really are. There are few, I trust, who disbelieve the existence of a God; nay, I doubt if at all times, and in all moods, any single individual ever adopted that hideous creed, though some have professed it. With the belief of a Deity, that of the immortality of the soul and of the state of future rewards and punishments is indissolubly linked. More we are not to know; but neither are we prohibited from all attempts, however vain, to pierce the solemn, sacred gloom. The expressions used in Scripture are doubtless metaphorical, for penal fires and heavenly melody are only applicable to beings endowed with corporeal senses; and, at least, till the period of the resurrection, the spirits of men, whether entering into the perfection of the just, or committed to the regions of punishment, are not connected with bodies. Neither is it to be supposed that the glorified bodies which shall arise in the last day will be capable of the same gross indulgences with which ours are now solaced. That the idea of Mahomet's Paradise is inconsistent with the purity of our heavenly religion, will be readily granted; and see Mark xii. 25. Harmony is obviously chosen as the least corporeal of all gratifications of the sense; and as the type of love, unity, and a state of peace and perfect happiness. But they have a poor idea of the Deity and the rewards which are destined for" the just made perfect," who can only adopt the literal sense of an eternal concert-a never-ending birthday ode. I rather suppose this should be understood as some commission from the Highest, some duty to discharge, with the applause of a satisfied conscience. That the Deity, who himself must be supposed to feel love and affection for the beings he has called into existence, should delegate a portion of those powers, I, for one, cannot conceive altogether so wrong a conjecture. We would then find reality in Milton's sublime machinery of the guardian saints or genii of kingdoms. Nay, we would approach to the Catholic idea of the employment of saints, though without approaching the absurdity of saint

worship, which degrades their religion. There would be, we must suppose, in these employments, difficulties to overcome and exertions to be made, for all which, the celestial beings employed would have certain appropriate powers. I cannot help owning that a life of active benevolence is more consistent with my ideas than an eternity of music. But it is all speculation; and it is impossible to guess what we shall do, unless we could ascertain the equally difficult previous question, What we are to be? But there is a God, and a just God, a judgment and a future life; and all who own so much, let them act according to the faith that is in them. I would not, of course, limit the range of my genii' to this confined earth; there is the universe, with all its endless extent of worlds.-SCOTT.

1. Genii, called by the eastern nations | dowed with a corporeal form, which they Genn or Gien, are a race of beings created are able to change at pleasure. Readers from fire, occupying an intermediate of the Arabian Nights' are familiar with place between man and angels, and en- Genii.

LAUNCHING INTO ETERNITY.

IT was a brave attempt! adventurous he
Who in the first ship broke the unknown scá,
And, leaving his dear native shores behind,
Trusted his life to the licentious wind.

I see the surging brine; the tempest raves;
He on the pine-plank rides across the waves,
Exulting on the edge of thousand gaping graves;
He steers the winged boat, and shifts the sails,
Conquers the flood, and manages the gales.

Such is the soul that leaves this mortal land,
Fearless, when the great Master gives command.
Death is the storm; she smiles to hear it roar,
And bids the tempest waft her from the shore;
Then with a skilful helm she sweeps the seas,
And manages the raging storm with ease

(Her faith can govern death); she spreads her wings
Wide to the wind, and as she sails she sings,
And loses by degrees the sight of mortal things.
As the shore lessens, so her joys arise,

The waves roll gentler, and the tempest dies;
Now vast eternity fills all her sight,

She floats on the broad deep with infinite delight,
The seas for ever calm, the skies for ever bright.

WATTS.

"IT IS A HAPPY WORLD AFTER ALL."

Benevolent.
Domesticated.

Abortive.
Vivacity.

Insect.
Collectively.

Gratuitous.

Articulate.

THE world was made with a benevolent design. Nor is the design abortive. It is a happy world after all. The air, the earth, the water, teem with delighted existence. In a spring noon, or a summer evening, on whichever side I turn my eyes, myriads of happy beings crowd upon my view. "The insect youth are on the wing" swarms of new-born flies are trying their pinions in the air. Their sportive motions, their wanton mazes, their gratuitous activity, their continual change of place without use or purpose, testify their joy, and the exultation which they feel in their lately-discovered faculties. A bee amongst the flowers in spring is one of the most cheerful objects that can be looked upon. Its life appears to be all enjoyment; so busy, so pleased; yet it is only a specimen of insect life with which, by reason of the animal being half domesticated, we happen to be better acquainted than we are with that of others. The whole winged insect tribe, it is probable, are equally intent upon their proper employments; and under every variety of constitution gratified, and perhaps equally gratified, by the offices which the Author of their nature has assigned to them. But the atmosphere is not the only scene of enjoyment for the insect race. Plants are covered with aphides, greedily sucking their juices, and constantly, as it would seem, in the act of sucking. It cannot be doubted but that this is a state of intense gratification. What else should fix them so close to their operation, and so long? Other species are running about with an alacrity in their motions, which carries with it every mark of pleasure. Large patches of ground are sometimes half covered with these brisk and sprightly natures. If we look to what the waters produce, shoals of the fry of fish frequent the marshes of rivers, of lakes, and of the sea itself. These are so happy, that they know not what to do with themselves; their attitudes, their vivacity, their leaps out of the water, their frolics in it, (which I have noticed a thousand times with equal attention and amusement,) all conduce to show their excess of spirits, and are simply the effects of that excess. Walking by the seaside on a calm evening upon a sandy shore, and with an ebbing tide, I have frequently remarked the appearance of a dark cloud, or, rather, very thick mist, hanging over the edge of the water to the height, perhaps, of half a yard, and of the breadth of two or three yards, stretching along the coast as far as the eye could reach, and always retiring with the water. When this cloud came to be examined, it proved to be nothing else than

so much space, filled with young shrimps, in the act of bounding into the air from the shallow margin of the water, or from the wet sand. If any motion of a mute animal could express delight, it was this; if they had meant to make signs of their happiness, they could not have done it more intelligibly. Suppose, then, what I have no doubt of, each individual of this number to. be in a state of positive enjoyment; what a sum, collectively, of gratification and pleasure have we here before our view! The young of all animals appear to me to receive pleasure simply from the exercise of their limbs and bodily faculties, without reference to any end to be attained, or any use to be answered by the exertion. A child, without knowing anything of the use of language, is in a high degree delighted with being able to speak; its incessant repetition of a few articulate sounds, or, perhaps, of the single word which it has learnt to pronounce, proves this point clearly. Nor is it less pleased with its first successful endeavours to walk, or rather to run (which precedes walking), although entirely ignorant of the importance of the attainment to its future life, and even without applying it to any present purpose. A child is delighted with speaking, without having anything to say; and with walking, without knowing where to go. And prior to both these, I am disposed to believe that the waking hours of infancy are agreeably taken up with the exercise of vision, or perhaps, more properly speaking, with learning to see. But it is not for youth alone that the great Parent of Creation hath provided. Happiness is found with the purring cat, no less than with the playful kitten; in the arm-chair of dozing age, as well as in either the sprightliness of the dance or the animation of the chase.-PALEY.

Compacted.
Commodiously.
Fragrant.
Manifold.

Some

WE can often discover evident marks of God's wisdom. general uses of the world are very discernible: and how that many parts thereof do contribute to them, we may easily observe; and seeing the whole is compacted in a decent and constant order, we have reason to deem the like of the rest. Our incapacity to discover all doth not argue defect, but excess of the Maker's wisdom; not too little in itself, but too great perfection in the work in respect of our capacity. The most to us observable piece of the universe is the earth upon which we dwell; which that it was designed for the accommodation of living creatures that are