MR. FRANCIS composed and printed several elegies for his earlier correspondents and intimate acquaintance, for Mr. Whitfield, Mr. Day, Dr. Caleb Evans, Mr. Williams, of Cardigan, &c. Some of his elegies were in Welsh, with various other poems. On his death-bed he composed an elegy for Mr. Pearce, of Birmingham, who was just deceased. He would weep at the remembrance of his dear acquaintance, such as the Rev. Joshua Thomas, of Leominster, with whom he kept up a constant correspondence for many years; the Rev. D. Turner, of Abingdon, &c. and looking up toward heaven, he would call it "the residence of his most numerous friends, containing far more of them than death had left him to enjoy on earth."

enlargement of the place of worship: the day was appointed for the opening, but was unfixed, Dr. Ryland being called that day to attend the funeral of Mr. Pearce, at Birmingham; and Mr. Francis's own illness rapidly increasing, the same friend, who. had been solicited to preach at. the opening of the meeting-house, was called upon to improve the mournful event of committing the remains of this excellent servant of God to the tomb.

It appears that Mr. Francis adopted a method, of which he probably took the hint from Dr. Cotton Mather, of proposing questions to himself every morning of the week, to assist him in the best method of doing good in all his connections.

Lord's Day morning.—What can I do more for God, in the promotion of religion, in the church over which I am pastor?

if standing at the bar of God. I now see so many sad defects in every grace, and imperfections in every duty I perform, with so many errors and sins in professors, that by these things my heart is heavily pressed, and I could dwell long on these painful subjects. But as to myself, I am more or less daily a burden to myself. I find my heart to be my chief, if not my only enemy. If the devil accuse me, I seldom accuse him; and it often disgusts me to hear professors charge their sins on that evil spirit. When I was young in religion, I wanted joy and assurance; but what I now mostly desire is, the mortification of all corruption, the spirit of Christ in my heart, and a universal conformity to the will and image of God. My consciousness of great deficiency in these things fills me with shame and sorrow; nor shall I be perfectly easy and happy till I am perfectly holy. O! how sweet, how beautiful, is true holiness! This is no part of our justifying righteousness, but it is a great part of our salvation. I desire to love the truths, and to embrace the promises of the gospel, not only as calculated to enlighten my understanding, and to rejoice my heart, but also to transform me into the divine image, and to fill my soul with a holy admiration of the infinite Jehovah. I want to lose sight of self in the refulgence of his glory, and to shrink into nothing, that God may be all in all. I long, I long, at least in some of my happier moments, to serve, to praise, to glorify my dear Redeemer, as my chief business, my chief delight, and as the chief part of my heaO when shall I praise him

ven.

as angels do!"

SOME SPECIMENS

TAKEN FROM THE

SACRED WRITERS

TO ILLUSTRATE THE CRITICISMS OF LONGINUS ON THE SUBLIME.

INSTANCES of the pathetic are found in the words of our Saviour to the poor Jews, who were imposed upon, and deluded into fatal errors by the Scribes and Pharisees, who had long been guilty of the heaviest oppression on the minds of the people. Matt. xi. 28-30, "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest to your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light!"

So again in Matt. xxiii. 37, after taking notice of the cruelties, inhumanities, and murders, which the Jewish nation had been guilty of towards those who had exhorted them to repentance, or would have recalled them from their blindness and superstition, to the practice of real religion and virtue, he on a sudden breaks off with

"O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not!”

There is a continued strain of this sort of pathetic in St. Paul's farewell speech to the Ephesian elders, in Acts xx. What an effect it had upon the audience is plain from verses 36-38; it is scarcely possible to read it seriously without tears.

The Deity is described, in a

thousand passages of scripture, in greater majesty, pomp, and perfection than that in which Homer arrays his gods. The books of Psalms and of Job abound in such divine descriptions. That particularly in Ps. xviii. 7—10, is inimitably grand: "Then the earth shook, and trembled, the foundations also of the hills moved, and were shaken, because he was wrath. There went up a smoke out of his nostrils, and fire out of his mouth devoured coals were kindled at it. He bowed the heavens also and came down, and darkness was under his feet. And he rode upon a cherub, and did fly, and came flying upon the wings of the wind."

So again, Psalm lxxvii. 16-19: "The waters saw thee, O God, the waters saw thee, and were afraid; the depths also were troubled. The clouds poured out water, the air thundered, and thine arrows went abroad. The voice of thy thunder was heard round about; the lightnings shone upon the ground, the earth was moved and shook withal. Thy way is in the sea, and thy paths in the great waters, and thy footsteps are not known." See, also, Psalms xlvi. lxviii. lxxvi. xcvi. civ. cxiv. cxxxix. cxlviii.; as also chap. iii. of Habakkuk, and the description of the Son of God in the book of Revelations, chap. xix. 11-17.

It

the miserably distressed. ends in that fervency of devotion, which such grand occurrences are fitted to raise in the minds of the thoughtful.

"He commandeth and raiseth the stormy wind, which lifteth up the waves thereof. They mount up to heaven, they go down again to the depths; their soul is melted away because of trouble. They reel to and fro like a drunken man, and are at their wits-end. Then they cry

unto the Lord in their trouble, and he bringeth them out of their distresses. He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. Then are they glad, because they be quiet; so he bringeth them to their desired haven. Oh that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men.”

No author amplifies in so noble a manner as St. Paul. He rises gradually from earth to heaven, from mortal man to God himself.

"For all things are yours, whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come; all are yours; and ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's." 1 Cor. iii. 21, 22: see, also, Rom. viii. 29, 30, and 38, 39.

A sublimer image can no where be found than in the song of Deborah, after Sisera's defeat, (Judges, v. 28,) where the vainglorious boasts of Sisera's mother, when expecting his return, and, as she was confident, his victorious return, are described:

through the lattice, Why is his chariot so long in coming? why tarry the wheels of his chariot? Her wise ladies answered her, yea; she returned answer to her