Thou art where friend meets friend, Beneath the shadow of the elm to rest Thou art where foe meets foe, and trumpets rend The skies, and swords beat down the princely crest. Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north-wind's breath, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, oh! Death. LESSON LXX. Skepticism.-CAMPBELL. OH! lives there, Heaven! beneath thy dread expanse, And call this barren world sufficient bliss?— Are these the pompous tidings ye proclaim, Launch'd with Iberia's pilot from the steep, And wheel'd in triumph through the signs of Heav'n? As waves the night-shade round the skeptic head. If Chance awak'd, inexorable pow'r! LESSON LXXI. Saturday Evening.-TRENTON EMPORIUM. THERE is something peculiarly solemn in the eve of the Sabbath, in the return of labourers, and the preparation for rest, and the general feeling of enlargement. And even where we do not observe the eastern custom of commencing our Sabbath on Saturday evening, yet the Lord's day seems to dawn, and the cessation of cares to betoken something peaceful, and the expectation of approaching solemnities to calm the soul; so that the man must be peculiarly volatile, or peculiarly stupid, who is not, of necessity, thrown out of the common rout of his giddy, or his busy thoughts, when the ruddy streaks of the west are beginning to grow dusky, and the week seems fading away. And what are the thoughts which a conscientious person would have, and which, of course, we all ought to have, at such a time?-A week is past; let my thoughts run through its business; and let conscience pass a faithful sentence. Am I a better man, a better husband, a better wife, a better neighbour, or whatever be my calling, and whatever the duties which it lays upon me? Am I more satisfied with my conduct, than I was the week before? If I am not, I have lived in vain. What have I done for the good of the neighbourhood? what for the public good? How have I been prospered in business; and how have I shown my thankfulness by administering to the necessities of those around me ? Are no sick, afflicted strangers in my vicinity? If not, is not this the most favoured spot under heaven? And if there are, what have I done for their relief? If in none of these things, I have been improving, I am living for myself, a selfish niggard, unworthy of the name of man or Christian. Am I better prepared for dying, than I was last week? And when I look forward, how am I going to spend the next week; and what new project for improvement have I in mind? And how am I about to sanctify the Sabbath? And what can I do for the good of others? LESSON LXXII. The Sabbath.-WILCOX. WHO scorn the hallowed day, set heaven at naught. Sabbaths, like way-marks, cheer the pilgrim's path, In God's own house, which in th' absorbing act She with his glory fills, as once a cloud LESSON LXXIII. The Importance of the Sabbath, considered as merely a Civil Institution.-W. JAY. A SLIGHT view of the comparative influence of human laws, and religious sentiment, in correcting the evils, and promoting the happiness of society, will afford abundant evidence of the superior efficacy of the latter. Human laws forbid only the commission of crimes: they presume not to take cognizance of thoughts and intentions. Religion, on the contrary, erects her throne in the heart, sways its affections, controls its passions, and directs its motives. Before the magistrate can enforce the sanctions of his laws, the offender must be discovered, and his guilt established by proof: and the fear of punishment is often counteracted by the possibility and the hope of eluding detection. But the votary of religion knows that he serves a master, whose omniscience and omnipotency render escape hopeless, and punishment inevitable. So conscious are all governments of the inefficacy of penalties to secure obedience to their law, that in a great variety of cases, they call in the aid of religious obligation, and bind their subjects by oaths, to the performance of their duties. Human laws trust solely to the influence of terror, while religion addresses herself to the hopes as well as the fears of mankind, and offers rewards as rich and glorious, as her punishments are awful and appalling. If we reflect for a moment what a vast proportion of mankind are doomed to daily labour for their subsistence, we shall be sensible that multitudes are necessarily deprived of all opportunity of acquiring religious information, except such as the Sabbath affords. Were the scriptures universally distributed, there would still be |