But the pilgrim prays, and then trials are light For, prayer to him on his way

Resembles the pillar of fire by night,

And the guiding cloud by day.

And vain were the hat, the staff, and the stole,
And all outward signs were a snare,
Unless the pilgrim's endanger'd soul
Were inwardly clothed with prayer.

And salvation's helm the pilgrim wears,
Or vain were all other dress;

And the shield of faith the pilgrim bears,
With the breast-plate of righteousness.

So clad, so armed to his journey's end,
He goes, secure from wrongs,
And when Zion's hill his feet ascend,
How sweetly will sound her songs.

But rough are its sides, and steep its ascent,
Yet onward he firmly goes;
Protecting wings will o'er him be bent,
And the Saviour his strength bestows.

And when Zion's glittering walls are near, Though his eyes may with tears be dim, Some rays from her gates his soul will cheer, And the swell of choral hymn.

At length his tears all wiped away,

He enters the city of light;

And how gladly he changes his gown of grey

For Zion's robe of white.

Then the dear and the blessed ones meet his
From whom death no more shall sever;
And he joins their endless hymns of praise,
Hallelujah, for ever and ever.

gaze,

Amelia Opie.

IF misery be the effect of virtue, it ought to be reverenced; if of ill fortune, to be pitied; and if of vice, not to be insulted; because it is perhaps itself a punishment adequate to the crime by which it was produced. The humanity of that man can deserve no panegyric, who is capable of reproaching a criminal in the hands of the executioner.

CONSCIENCE.

CONSCIENCE, tremendous conscience, in his fits
Of inspiration,-whencesoe'er it came,-
Rose like a ghost, inflicting fear of death,
On those who fear'd not death in fiercest battle,
And mocked him in their martyrdoms of torments:
That secret, swift, and silent messenger
Broke on them in their lonely hours,-in sleep,
In sickness; haunting them with dire suspicions,
Of something in themselves that would not die,-
Of an existence elsewhere, and hereafter,

Of which tradition was not wholly silent,
Yet spake not out; its dreary oracles
Confounded superstition to conceive,
And baffled scepticism to reject :

What fear of death is like the fear beyond it?
J. Montgomery.

WHAT can the man fear, who takes care in all his actions to please that Being that is omnipotent? a Being that is able to crush all his adversaries; a Being that can divert any misfortune from befalling him, or turn any such misfortune to his advantage? The person who lives with this constant and habitual regard to the great superintendent of the world, is indeed sure that no real evil can come into his lot. Blessings may appear under the shape of pains, losses, and disappointments; but let him have patience, and he will see them in their proper figures.

Dangers may threaten him, but he may rest satisfied, that they will either not reach him, or that if they do, they will be the instrument of good to him.

In short, he may look upon all crosses and accidents, sufferings and afflictions, as means which are made use of to bring him to happiness.

E

We have to do with one whose power is unbounded, whose knowledge is infinite, and whose justice is perfect; and therefore from him we can hide no guilt; we can fly to no place of defence, nor can we expect acceptance, but in the paths of reason and religion: in

them we shall find the highest pleasure, and join to the cheerful enjoyment of the things of this world, the prospect of a continuance and increase of pleasures, when this world has no more to give.

VIRTUE is the greatest ornament; it is to the young necessary—to the aged, comfortable-to the poor, serviceable-to the rich, an ornament-to the fortunate, an honour-to the unfortunate, a support. She ennobles the slave, and exalts nobility itself. In short, let it be remembered, that none can be the disciples of the graces but in the school of virtue; and that those who wish to be lovely must learn to be good.

THAT man is most blessed, who receives his daily bread with gratitude and thankfulness from the hand of God; and he who does, experiences a pleasure that exceeds description. It is this that gives a relish to every repast; it is this that makes the coarsest morsel delicious to the taste; and it is the want of this that makes affluence a burden, instead of a blessing, to the rich.

THOUGH Our nature is imperfect and corrupt, yet it is so far improveable by the grace of God, upon our own good endeavours, that we all may, though not equally, be instruments of his glory, ornaments and blessings to this world, and capable of eternal happiness.

God hath promised pardon to him that repenteth;

but he hath not promised repentance to him that sinneth.

WHEN the last hour seems to be approaching, all terrestrial advantages are viewed with indifference; and the value that we once set upon them is disregarded or forgotten. And if the same thought were always predominant, we should then find the absurdity of stretching out our arms incessantly, to grasp that which we cannot keep, and wearing out ourselves in endeavouring to add new turrets to the fabric of ambition, when the foundation itself is shaking, and the ground on which it stands is mouldering away.

THERE is more satisfaction in doing than receiving good. To relieve the oppressed is the most glorious act a man is capable of; it is in some measure doing the business of God and Providence, and is attended with a heavenly pleasure, unknown but to those that are beneficent and liberal.

TRUE WISDOM.

THE wise man, says the Bible, walks with God,
Surveys far on the endless line of life;

Values his soul, thinks of eternity,

Both worlds considers, and provides for both;
With reason's eye his passions guards; abstains
From evil; lives on hope; on hope, the fruit
Of faith; looks upward, purifies his soul,
Expands his wings, and mounts into the sky;

L