No good thing hast thou withheld from one who had forfeited all.

As an immortal being, where am I? Here I belong to the universe of spirit, as before to the universe of matter. I am surrounded on all sides by invisible and deathless beings. I have myriads of devils for my foes, multitudes of angels for my ministers; and the Father of spirits for my guide and defender.

As a new creature in Christ, where am I? In the Eden of the new covenant, and among the family of heaven. I stand among the wonders of revelation; I share the riches of redeeming mercy; I rejoice in the gifts of everlasting love. From the eminence upon which I stand, I behold the glories of eternity and the wonders of the everlasting kingdom! Marvellous are thy works, O Lord! Who am I, that thou hast brought me hitherto?

What then do I know of myself, my state and prospects, and how do I feel toward my beneficent benefactor? Do I as a creature daily consider the wisdom, power, and goodness of God, as displayed toward me and around me? As a rational creature, do I deeply feel my responsibility? As a redeemed sinner, do I hourly muse upon what God has done, and what he has promised to do; upon what I have received, and what I am encouraged to hope for? Am I a humble adorer of God's goodness; do I feel conscious of his awful

presence, and am I anxious for his gracious presence and company? Then have I reason, indeed, to be grateful for my being, then is my immortality a blessing to me. Marvellous are thy works, O God, kind are thy dealings, tender is thy mercy, and rich thy compassion! this my soul knoweth right well. Therefore"will I praise thee, O God," with my body, let it be thy temple; with my spirit, let it be thy instrument; with my tongue, let it be thy herald; with my life, let it be thy mirror; and let all be unceasingly employed in extolling thy glorious name :

"I look upon the worm, and sigh-
My brother and my peer!

Thou dost to angels point and cry,
Behold thy brethren here!

I look upon the dust and say,
My parent and my home!

Thou bidst me gaze on endless day,
There dwell in worlds to come!"

PENITENCE AND PRAISE.

WHILE on the covenant of grace relying,
My rock of safety, and my fount of peace;
While Jesus and his cross alone I'm eyeing,

The world recedes, my fears and doubtings cease.

The heart is melted into soft contrition,

Yet faith can triumph o'er the sins I see;
While hope looks forward to that blest condition,
When I shall, like my Lord, in glory be!

Love triumphs in the glorious Mediator,
And sings aloud his victories and fame;
Humility much wonders that a creature

Should be enabled such rich grace to claim.

Awake, my soul, in songs of lofty praises,

And emulate the blest around the throne!
Such glorious grace my glowing heart surprises,
I long such wondrous love with praise to crown!

Ye saints, who know the pangs of holy sorrow,
Who know the joys produced by pardoning grace;
O could I all your hearts and voices borrow,
All were inadequate such love to praise !

In mercy, Lord, accept a sinner's lispings,
So in my thanks shall thy compassion shine;
And soon thy grace shall change these feeble
whisperings

To praises everlasting and sublime.

(89)

THE FORGOTTEN RACE.

WHEN in the midst of forests which were thought to have existed from the time of the deluge, the traveller suddenly comes upon the ruins of magnificent structures, and finds himself a lonely man, where once a busy crowd thronged the streets of a vast city, how solemn are his thoughts! He naturally inquires concerning the name of the lost race, their history, and the cause of their extinction; but there is no reply! They are not only lost, but forgotten. Surely man walketh in a vain show, and in his best estate is altogether vanity!

How affecting, also, is it to walk where the dead repose, and to think of those who slumber beneath! If the place has long been devoted to this solemn purpose, and is thickly sown with dust once animated, the humbling thought steals over the mind, how completely are the far greater part of these sleepers entirely forgotten! Past generations, who remembers them? They had their birthdays, and kept them in the midst of joyous circles; they had, also, their dying days, and were mourned over. But when they were born, when they died, and how they lived, nothing is now known. They once joyed and sorrowed; loved, and were loved again; their heads planned, their hearts grieved; but no record remains behind of all these things. Some, it is true,

have a monument which preserves their names a little while on earth, and others have a rude and crumbling memorial placed over their sleeping dust; but the moss has overgrown it, and the teeth of time are fast gnawing the universal wood or stone to pieces, and if, after much painstaking, the name is deciphered, still the question returns, who was he? and there is no answer

Oh, it is humbling to contemplate how oblivion swallows up the names and memories of men almost as fast as eternity receives their souls. Man strives to prevent this, but it cannot be altered. God's word is verified ; "What is your life? it is even a vapour, which appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away." Men build houses, make roads, plant trees, and call them after their own names, and now those who dwell in the houses, who pass along the roads, or who admire the flourishing plantations, know not why such names were given to these various objects. The pyramids still stand. They were intended by the builder to keep his name in everlasting remembrance; there they stand, and the wondering traveller asks these huge piles, with their mysterious chambers, and curious sculptures, who built them? but they reply not. A few only of the sons of men are remembered. Thousands of millions have lived and died. A few solitary memories still float on that great ocean which has swallowed up all beside, and of these comparative few, a large por