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Co the Meek.

How much that Genius boasts as hers,
And fancies hers alone,

On you, meek spirits, Faith confers!
The proud have further gone,
Perhaps through life's dull maze: but you
Alone possess the labyrinth's clue!

To you the costliest spoils of Thought,
Wisdom unclaimed yields up:

To you her far-sought pearl is brought,
And melted in your cup:

To you her nard and myrrh she brings,
Like Orient gifts to infant kings.

The "single eye" alone can see
All truths around us thrown,
In their eternal unity:

The humble ear alone

Has room to hold and time to prize,
The sweetness of Life's harmonies.

Notions to thought made visible,
Are but the smallest part,

Of those immortal Truths which dwell
Self-radiant in man's heart.

With outward beams are others bright,
But God has made you "full of light."

One science well ye know: the will
Of God-to man laid bare:
One art have mastered: to fulfil
The part assigned you there.
If other, meaner lore ye sought,
This first ye learned-to need it not!

AUBREY DE VERE. 59

The Chief Good.

WHEN we come to the work of watching over our hearts, and amending our own lives, in earnest, as to a great and all-important work, which requires, not merely the whole concentrated energies of the human mind, but the powerful assistance of the Holy Spirit added thereto, and working therewith, we feel for the first time the weakness, the vacillation, the worldliness, the propensity to error, the indisposition to duty, the sin in our nature! Herein consists the benefit of sickness, and next to sickness, retirement. We there learn ourselves, that book of many pages, that text of many meanings! An individual thrown, and thrown under disadvantageous circumstances, into close and constant intercourse with the world, has this book closed against him; at least it requires a courageous, almost a mighty effort to break open its seals, and get at its secrcts. In the noise and glare of a worldly life, how many false motives, how many erroneous opinions, may steal in and out of the heart unnoticed; and shape themselves into action, and express themselves in words, contrary to the spirit of upright self-denying religion, with an influence so silent and unobtrusive, that the individual is not aware of the deadening process going on within him. Business, just, lawful, necessary business, comes first, with its imperative claims upon the mass of his time, and the main strength of his mind: recreation follows, and with the same plea of necessity, tithes the remaining portion; physical nature, wearied, wanting, overtasked nature, brings up the rear, and demands all that remains, with an urgency not to be parried or set aside. Such is the treadmill round such the incessant surrender of time, thought, and strength, to business, pleasure and physical retirements!-and there remains nothing for God; nothing even for self in the best sense, till sickness comes, or till death suddenly stalks in, breaks like a giant the bands that have fettered the soul to earth, brings the struggling captive into the presence of its Maker, teaches in a moment, and with an energy not to be

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gainsayed, that one forgotten necessary was,—to learn to die ;— that if many things were expedient, one was emphatically "needful;" if many good, one was the chief good, without which, all else exerted an ensnaring and destroying influencewith which, every pursuit would have been ennobled, every pure pleasure enhanced, every affection purified, every power strengthened, every dispensation rendered a blessing, every affliction salutary. Alas, for the trials and temptations of this busy, changing, proud, perishing world! and alas for those, obliged to pass through its furnace !-called to use, yet commanded not to abuse it; to be "not slothful in business," yet " fervent in spirit;" to be a citizen in its high places, yet maintain the feelings of a pilgrim and a stranger; to mingle in the pageant, without being conformed to its fashions, or governed by its motives, or anxious for its honours. Alas! for such a one, were there no Divine Spirit to strengthen him with might in his inner man ; no compassionate Father to relieve his doubts, and fears, and sinkings of heart; to hear his confessions of weakness, his supplications for wisdom, support, and consolation; were there no all-atoning Redeemer to blot out the records of sin, condemnation, deficiency, and error; to present his prayers, plead his cause on high, and throw over the suppliant the garment of salvation. If I knew a friend so circumstanced, so peculiarly exposed to the snares and strifes of this world's influence, and if I felt for that friend the truest regard, joined to the most anxious interest; and if I knew, too, that circumstances shielded me from much to which he was exposed-how sacred a duty would it seem, to bring before him glimpses of those truths which counteracting causes so tended to shut out, to venture to press home the absolute duty, the paramount importance of seeking first the kingdom of God, his righteousness, his rewards, his pleasures, and his service. Oh! how sacred a duty would it appear, to think of that individual in the retired hours of meditation, to garrison him with desires for his heavenly interests, prayers for his spiritual welfare. M. J. JEWSBURY.

6

Logan's Lament.

THE sky was once bright, o'er the path which I trod,
And the flowers sprang light, from the green bosomed sod:
The hills and the mountains were gay to mine eye,
And the wild waters murmured in harmony by :
The mountains still bloom and the waters still pour-
But joy to my bosom shall never shine more.

It was sweet once to sit by the gush of the spring,
And hear in the wild-wood the mocking-bird sing.
It was blithe, in the stillness and beauty of night,
To catch the soft echoes that followed her flight:
The night is still beautiful-sweet is the strain,
But pleasure to Logan returns not again.

My cabin was built by the verge of a lake,
And beside me the voice of the Cataract spake :
The dark bosomed forest stretched deep in the rear,
And behind the blue mountains rose, lofty and clear:
It was blithe to the heart, and serene to the eye,
To see their long ridges uplifted on high.

How oft have I sat at that cabin's low door,
With those that shall sit by that cabin no more;
And watched, in the last fading light of the day,
Which the shadows of twilight were driving away,
The proud Eagle sail, slowly over the wave,

Like the demon of fear, o'er the murderer's grave.

The Great Spirit sent, from the home of the blest,
The brightest of blessings which Logan possessed:

LOGAN'S LAMENT.

"Twas the blessing of love: oh it twined round his heart,
As joy which he fancied would never depart:

His children and wife were more dear in his eye,
Than the bloom of the earth, or the glow of the sky.

my hand,

I had long loved the white man- -I gave him
I refused 'gainst his nation to lift up the brand:
My hut was his home, and my hearth was his bed;
And my food and my raiment before him were spread:
When hungry and naked and weary of limb,

The cabin of Logan was open to him.

The men of my nation when passing, would say,

63

"Lo, the friend of the white man!" and pass on their way; I thought to have built me my tent on their plain,

And peacefully cultured my little domain.

But woe to the hand which the strong link can sever,
And make Logan the foe of the white man forever!

When I sat in the shade of mine own Alder tree,
And saw the young scions surrounding my knee,
No chief of my tribe was more happy than I,
Sitting there in the light of my own native sky;
As pure as the air that was whispering above,
And owning no bond but the sweet tie of love.

But the angel of Death was abroad on the blast,
And over the flock of my bosom he passed:
I had not the power his pinions to stay,
And with one fatal flap they were hurried away:
At the voice of destruction they sank in the flood,
And the waves of Kanawa were red with their blood.

Revenge was my watchword! for it I have fought,
And the boon is obtained which so dearly I bought :

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