So saying, by the hand he took me; rais'd,
And,-over fields, and waters, as in air,
Smooth-sliding, without step,-last led me up
A woody mountain; whose high top, was plain:
A circuit wide, enclos'd with goodliest trees;
Planted with walks, and bowers; that, what I saw
Of earth before, scarce pleasant seem'd. Each tree,
Loaden with fairest fruit, that hung, to th' eye
Tempting, stirr'd in me sudden appetite

To pluck, and eat; whereat, I wak'd, and found,
Before mine eyes, ALL, REAL, as the dream,
Had lively shadow'd.

ON THE INFLUENCE OF HOPE.

REV. H. MELVILL.

RELIGION, gives a character to Hope, of which, otherwise, it is altogether destitute. You will scarcely find the man, in all the ranges of our creation, whose bosom, bounds not at the mention of hope. What is hope, but, the solace, and stay of those, whom it most cheats, and deludes?-whispering of health to the sick man, and of better days to the dejected? The fairy name, on which, young imaginations, pour forth all the poetry of their souls, and whose syllables, float, like aerial music, into the ear of frozen, and paralyzed old age? In the long catalogue of human griefs, there is scarce one, of so crushing a pressure, that hope, loses its elasticity, becoming unable to soar; but, brings down fresh, and fair leaves from some far-off domain, which itself, creates. And yet, whilst hope, is the great inciter to exertion, and the great soother of wretchedness, Who knows not, that it ordinarily deceives mankind, and that, though it crowd the future with glorious resting-places, and thus, tempt us, to bear up yet awhile against accumulated disasters, its palaces, and gardens, vanish as we approach; and we

are kept from despair, only, because the pinnacles, and forests of another bright scene, fringe the horizon, and the deceiver, finds us willing to be again deceived? Hope, is a beautiful meteor; but, nevertheless, this meteor, like the rainbow, is not only lovely, because of its seven rich, and radiant stripes; it is the memorial of a covenant, between man, and his Maker, telling us, that we are born for immortality, destined, unless we sepulchre our greatness, to the highest honour, and noblest happiness. Hope, proves man deathless. It is the struggle of the soul, breaking loose from what, is perishable, and attesting her eternity. And when the eye of the mind, is turned upon Christ, "delivered for our offences, and raised again for our justification," the unsubstantial, and deceitful character, is taken away from hope.-Hope, is one of the prime pieces, of that armour of proof, in which, the believer, is arrayed; for, St. Paul, bids us take "for our helmet the hope of salvation." It is not good, that a man, hope for wealth, since "riches, profit not in the day of wrath;" and it is not good, that he hope for human honours, since the mean, and mighty, go down to the same burial; but, it is good, that he hope for salvation; the meteor then, gathers, like a golden halo, round his head, and, as he presses forward in the battle-time, no weapon of the EVIL ONE, can pierce through that helmet.

THE PARABLE OF THE PRODIGAL SON.

St. Luke, chap. xv. ver. 11.

A CERTAIN man, had two sons:

And the younger of them, said to his father, "Father, give me the portion of goods, that falleth to me." And he divided unto them his living.

And not many days after, the younger son, gathered all together, and took his journey into a far country; and there, wasted his substance with riotous living.

And when he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land; and he began to be in

want.

And he went, and joined himself to a citizen of that country; and he sent him into his fields to feed swine.

And he would fain have filled his belly with the husks, that the swine, did eat: and no man, gave unto him.

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And when he came to himself, he said, "How 'many hired servants of my father's, have bread "enough, and to spare, and I perish with hunger!

"I will arise, and go to my father, and will say

"unto him, Father, I have sinned against Heaven, "and before thee,

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"And am no more worthy to be called thy son: make me as one of thy hired servants.'

And he arose, and came to his father. But, when he was yet a great way off, his father, saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him:

And the son, said unto him, “Father, I have "sinned against Heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son."

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But, the father, said to his servants,

"Bring

"forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet;

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"And bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; “and let us eat, and be merry:

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"For, this, my son, was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found." And they began to be merry.

Now, his elder son, was in the field: and as he came, and drew nigh to the house, he heard music, and dancing.

And he called one of the servants, and asked what these things meant.

And he said unto him, "Thy brother, is come; "and thy father, hath killed the fatted calf, because, "he hath received him safe, and sound."

And he was angry, and would not go in: therefore, came his father out, and entreated him.