To God the Father, Son and Holy Ghost,

Let praises be

With transport sounded by the heavenly host;

Eternally!

"Them that honour me I will honour, and they that despise me shall be lightly esteemed."-1 SAM. ii. 30.

THE HERCULES OF LETTERS.

I LOOKED upon a giant,-one whose mind
Surpassed the common standard of mankind;
Vast and profound in thought, yet winged to soar
Through worlds of intellect

Large was the orbit where that spirit ran,
Tracking the great Creator's wondrous plan;
It compassed round our being, soaring still
Where art and science take their plenteous fill.
He dipt his pen in logic; drawing thence
An ample draught to fill each quickened sense;
Choice in his thoughts and words-surpassing he
In skill, to mark each nice philology.

Words are the signs of things, and thus he made
The lettered tome, his treasure and his trade;
He loved to class ideas, whilst he stood
Gathering up mental pearls like daily food :
And much his store-house yielded, for with care,
Well used was he to sift them and compare,
Choosing the pure first-water; nicely laid
See in his cabinet, their charms displayed!
They shine to greet our vision and to raise
Our cultured thought to more accomplished grace.

THE HERCULES OF LETTERS.

Industrious in his study-from whose walls
Full many a ray to cheer our vision falls;
The light of clear intelligence-the glow

That thought like his on many a breast may throw,
Where polished diction-polished numbers dwell,
And reason high, holds fast her citadel.
In meditative mood what prayers express'd
The heart's deep breathing and the soul's unrest.
His closet moments in devotion spent,

Have left behind their graven monument :
The prayer of faith is heard-and when the soul
Bows in contrition-Jesus makes it whole.

Cumbrous and rude the mould that once enshrined
The essence of that grand, herculean mind,
Broad the dimensions of that house of clay
Where breathed a soul imprisoned from the day;
Like a caged bird's his thraldom, yet his eye
Looked out on Nature's untried mystery.
He feared to pass earth's confines, and to change
This mantling veil, for visions new and strange ;-
He feared life's closing moment, and what eye
May dare Jehovah's awful scrutiny?

We tremble in the gaze-till Love divine,

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Does from the Cross, on man's transgression shine;
Then Death resigns his sting-the Grave its power-
And Jesus conquers in Redemption's hour.

"Forasmuch then as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise took part of the same; that through death he might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil; and deliver them who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage." —HEB. ii. 14, 15.

THE PYRACANTHUS.

A LOFTY genius, lofty in its aim,
A soul to feel;

A spirit lighted by a kindling flame
Of hallowed zeal.

A purpose all unbending, and a heart
Whose tides o'erflow;

A sympathy that can its tears impart
To solace woe.

A righteous indignation where the shades
Of death are found;

Thought that unhallowed mystery invades
On holy ground.

Courage unused to waver, and an eye
Whose upward ken

Looks on the shores of immortality,
And then on men.

The spirit world it visits, and descries
In gospel light,

Beings who walk this earth in viewless guise,
To mortal sight.

They walk this earth unseen, or when we wake,
Or sleeping lie;

Waking or sleeping we may well partake
Their agency.

Mark the destroying Angel! with his sword
Glistening and bare ;

An envoy in the service of his Lord,

He hovers there;

THE PYRACANTHUS.

Nor prompt in his dread mission, but his hand
Of master-skill,

Pours down its shafts on the devoted land,
At heaven's high will.

She mused on Principalities and Powers
Beneath high heaven ;

Where Darkness with her boding pinion lowers,
By fury driven.

Now Satan and his hosts in dire array,
The conflict swell,

And fiends who mingling in the battle fray,
But breathe of hell.

Malice, that baneful scourge with venom❜d breath,
And wild desire,

Hatred that knows, too well, the gates of death-
And envy dire.

War, with its thousand woes, and yet more high
Apollion's rage;

When marshalled into combat with the sky,

His powers engage.

But see! a brighter world, a world of love,
Smiles on our view ;

Where angel bands with sweet accordance move,
In order true.

Angelic voices sing, each tuneful lyre
Doth full notes raise;

The music of the blest seraphic choir,
Is waked to praise.

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And she could gaze on flowers, and symbolize
Those blossoms gay

Which smiling in the light of summer skies,
Perfume our way.

The Lion of the tribe of Judah's line
Her voice would sing ;

And deeply thus she drank of themes divine
At Siloa's spring.

Zeal for the chosen people of our God,
Glowed in her breast ;

Both when they wept on Palestine's green sod-
With grief opprest ;

And when in this good land where graces smile,
They come to own,

The love that can the sinner reconcile

At heaven's high throne.

And thou could'st cheer the captive, spirit-bound In that lone cell;

Hark! for the dumb hath learned to wake a sound His bliss to tell.

'Twas thine to chase the enchanter from that breast, And whisper there

Of light and joy and liberty and rest,
Of mansions fair.-

A Father's mercy and a Saviour's love,
Thy message sweet—

A future home in heavenly worlds above,
His blest retreat.