'Alas! my brother of the dust, in this uncertainty of worldly blessings, where is the joy on earth, in which thou canst repose thy confidence? or what defence canst thou rear against the inroads of adversity? Dost thou hope that by rising to power, or by increasing thy goods, thou wilt insure the continuance of thy comfort? Vain man! hast thou not seen that the loftiest mountain meets first the lightnings of the sky, and that the spreading tree, when loaded with the glories of its foliage and fruit, is most easily broken by the fury of the blast? In this manner, the children of this world, by multiplying their stores and extending their connections, furnish a broader mark to the arrows of misfortune, and with the greater certainty suffer disappointment and sorrow.'

Sublime Emotion.

The Works and Attributes of God.-Moodie.

All vast and unmeasurable objects are fitted to impress the soul with awe. The mountain which rises above the neighbouring hills, and hides its head in the sky,—the sounding, unfathomed, boundless deep,—the expanse of Heaven, where, above and around, no limit checks the wondering eye; -these objects fill and elevate the mind,-they produce a solemn frame of spirit, which accords with the sentiment of religion.

From the contemplation of what is great and magnificent in nature, the soul rises to the Author of all. We think of the time which preceded the birth of the universe, when no being existed but God alone. While unnumbered systems arise in order before us, created by his power, arranged by his wisdom, and filled with his presence,—the earth and the sea, with all that they contain, are hardly beheld amidst the immensity of his works. In the boundless subject the soul is lost. It is he who "sitteth on the circle of the earth, and the inhabitants thereof are as grasshoppers. He weigheth the mountains in scales. He taketh up the isles as a very little thing." "Lord, what is man that thou art mindful of him!"

'The face of nature is sometimes clothed with terror. The tempest overturns the cedars of Lebanon, or discloses the secrets of the deep. The pestilence wastes, the lightning consumes, the voice of the thunder is heard on high. Let these appearances be connected with the power of God. These are the awful ministers of his kingdom. "The Lord reigneth, let the people tremble. Who would not fear thee, O King of nations! By the greatness of thy power thine enemies are constrained to bow."

Pathetic Emotion.

Autumnal Meditation instructive to the Aged.-Alison.

The

'There is an eventide in human life, a season when the eye becomes dim, and the strength decays, and when the winter of age begins to shed upon the human head its prophetic snow. It is the season of life to which autumn is most analogous; and much it becomes, and much it would profit you, to mark the instructions which the season brings. spring and the summer of your days are gone, and with them, not only the joys they knew, but many of the friends who gave them. You have entered upon the autumn of your being; and whatever may have been the profusion of your spring, or the warm intemperance of your summer, there is yet a season of stillness and of solitude, which the beneficence of Heaven affords you, in which you may meditate upon the past and the future, and prepare yourselves for the mighty change which you are soon to undergo.

If it be thus you have the wisdom to use the decaying season of nature, it brings with it consolations more valuable than all the enjoyments of former days. In the long retrospect of your journey, you have seen every day the shades of the evening fall, and every year the clouds of winter gather. But you have seen also, every succeeding day, the morning arise in its brightness, and in every succeeding year, the spring return to renovate the winter of nature. It is now you may understand the magnificent language of Heaven,-it

mingles its voice with that of revelation,-it summons you, in these hours when the leaves fall, and the winter is gathering, to that evening study which the mercy of Heaven has provided in the book of salvation; and while the shadowy valley opens which leads to the abode of death, it speaks of that Hand which can comfort and can save, and which can conduct to those "green pastures, and those still waters," where there is an eternal spring for the children of God.'

Grave, Sublime, and Pathetic Emotions.

Marathon and Athens.-Byron.

Where'er we tread, 'tis haunted, holy ground;
No earth of thine is lost in vulgar mould!
But one vast realm of wonder spreads around;
And all the Muse's tales seem truly told,

Till the sense aches with gazing to behold
The scenes our earliest dreams have dwelt upon :
Each hill and dale, each deepening glen and wold,
Defies the power which crushed thy temples gone :
Age shakes Athena's tower, but spares gray Marathon.

'Yet to the remnants of thy splendour past,

Shall pilgrims, pensive, but unwearied, throng;
Long shall the voyager, with the Ionian blast,
Hail the bright clime of battle and of song;
Long shall thine annals and immortal tongue
Fill with thy fame the youth of many a shore;
Boast of the aged! lesson of the young!
Which sages venerate and bards adore,

As Pallas and the Muse unveil their awful lore.

'Ancient of days! august Athena! where,
Where are thy men of might? thy grand in soul?
Gone-glimmering through the dream of things that were,
First in the race that led to Glory's goal,

They won, and passed away-Is this the whole?

A schoolboy's tale, the wonder of an hour!

The warrior's weapon and the sophist's state

Are sought in vain; and o'er each mouldering tower, Dim with the mist of years, gray flits the shade of power.'

Lowest Pitch.

Solemnity, Awe, and Reverence.
Devotion.-Young.

O thou great Arbiter of life and death!
Nature's immortal, immaterial sun!

Whose all-prolific beam late called me forth
From darkness, teeming darkness, where I lay
The worm's inferior; and, in rank, beneath
The dust I tread on; high to bear my brow,
To drink the spirit of the golden day,
And triumph in existence; and couldst know
No motive but my bliss; and hast ordained
A rise in blessing! with the Patriarch's joy
Thy call I follow to the land unknown:
I trust in thee, and know in whom I trust:
Or life or death is equal: neither weighs;
All weight in this-Oh! let me live to thee!'

Meditation.-Id.

How is Night's sable mantle laboured o'er,
How richly wrought with attributes divine!

What wisdom shines! what love! This midnight pomp,
This gorgeous arch with golden worlds inlaid!
Built with divine ambition!-nought to Thee,—

For others this profusion.-Thou, apart,
Above, beyond, Oh! tell me, mighty Mind!
Where art thou?-shall I dive into the deep?
Call to the sun? or ask the roaring winds
For their Creator? Shall I question loud
The thunder, if in that the Almighty dwells?
Or holds He furious storms in straitened reins,
And bids fierce whirlwinds wheel his rapid car?

'What mean these questions?-Trembling I retract: My prostrate soul adores the present God!'

Sublimity and Awe.

Extract from Psalm XVIII.

V. 7. Then the earth shook and trembled; the foundations also of the hills moved and were shaken, because He was wroth. 8. There went up a smoke out of his nostrils, and fire out of his mouth devoured: coals were kindled by it. 9. He bowed the heavens also, and came down; and darkness was under his feet. 10. And he rode upon a cherub and did fly: yea, he did fly upon the wings of the wind. 11. He made darkness his secret place; his pavilion round about him were dark waters and thick clouds of the skies. 12. At the brightness that was before him his thick clouds passed, hailstones and coals of fire. 13. The Lord also thundered in the heavens, and the Highest gave his voice; hailstones and coals of fire. 14. Yea, he sent out his arrows, and scattered them; and he shot out lightnings, and discomfited them. 15. Then the channels of waters were seen, and the foundations of the world were discovered at thy rebuke, O Lord, at the blast of the breath of thy nostrils.'

Deep Grief.

Extract from Jeremiah. IX. CHAP.

V. 1. 'Oh! that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people! 2. Oh! that I had in the wilderness a lodging-place of way-faring men, that I might leave my people and go from them! for they be all adulterers, an assembly of treacherous men.'

Despondency and Despair.

Extract from Job. XVII. CHAP.

V. 11. My days are past; my purposes are broken off, even the thoughts of my heart. 12. They change the night