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up againe, when Christ on Easter-day | ling upon the serpent's head, kills him. revived. Death I wisse had not been | The wild bull of al things cannot abide brought up so daintely before, nor any red colour. Therefore the hunter used to such manner of meate, but al- for the nonce standing before a tree, ways had ravined either with Mithri- puts on a red garment, whom when dates' daughters upon the poyson of the bull sees, he runnes at him as hard sin, or else with Noah's crow upon the as he can drive. But the hunter slipcarrion of corruption. Wherefore now, I ping aside, the bull's hornes sticke saith Fulgentius, death did indeed taste | fast in the tree; as when David slipof Christ, but could not swallow him ped aside, Saul's speare stuck fast in up, nor disgest him. - Contrariwise, the wall. Such a hunter is Christ. Christ, as soon as ever he had but a Christ standing before the tree of his little tasted of death, eftsoones he did crosse, puts on a red garment, dipt devoure death, he did swallow up and died in his owne bloud, as one that death in victory. And so the death commeth with redde garments from of Christ, by reason of his righteous-Bozra. Therefore the divell and his nesse, is the death of Death.
angels, like wilde bulls of Bazan, run "It is also the death of the divell. at him. But he shifting for himself, As the apostle saith, that by his death their hornes stick fast in his crosse; he did overcome not only death, but as Abraham's ram by his hornes stuck him also which had the power of death, fast in the briers. Thus is the divell the divell. It is reported that the caught and killed. A dragon indeed libard useth a strange kind of policie kils an elephant; yet so as the eleto kill the ape. He lieth downe upon phant falling down kills the dragon the ground, as though he were starke with him. And accordingly to this, dead, which the apes seeing, come alto- | the divell killing Christ, was killed by gether, and in despite skip upon him. Christ. Yea, as an elephant is strongThis the libard beareth patiently, til he er than the dragon, and Eleazar is thinks they have wearied themselves stronger than the elephant; so Christ with their sporting, then suddenly he is stronger than them both. . For the likewise leapes up, and catcheth one elephant doth not live after he hath in his mouth, and in each foot one, killed the dragon, neither doth Eleawhich he immediately killeth and de- zar live after he hath killed the elevoureth. This was Christ's policie. phant: but Christ liveth after he hath He was laid in the dust for dead. The destroyed the divell. Leaving the didivell then insulted over him, and tram- vell dead, he is now risen himselfe from pled upon him. But hee, like a lively the dead. Wherefore as a libard killibard, starting up on Easter-day, as- leth the ape, and a camelion the sertonished the souldiers set to keep him, pent, and a hunter the bull, and an which were the divell's apes, and made elephant the dragon, and Eleazar the them lie like dead men. Even as hee elephant himself; so Christ, the true told them before by the prophets, say- | Eleazar, which signifies the helpe of ing, I will be to them as a very lion, God, hath by his death killed that and as a libard in the way of Ashur. mischievous ape the divell, that old For as blind Samson by his death kill serpent the divell, that wilde bull the ed the Philistines, when they were divell, that great dragon the divell, playing the apes in mocking and mow- | that raging elephant the divell.” ing at him, so Christ by his death de- (An additional extract would be acceptable.) stroyed the divell.
“Scaliger writeth, that the camelion when he espies a serpent taking shade under a tree, climbes up into that tree,
EXTRACTS FROM DR. CHALMER'S SER
MONS. and lets down a threed, at the end whereof there is a little drop as cleere as any pearle, which falling upon the MR. EDITOR serpent's head, kills him. Christ is Sir,Allow me to hand you an exthis camelion : he climbes up into the tract or two from the sermons of Dr. tree of his crosse, and lets down a | Chalmers. For simplicity, pathos, threed of blood issuing out of his side, and truth of description, they are like Rahab's red threed hanging out of masterly specimens. And permit me, her window, the least drop whereof as a friend to your valuable publication, being so pretious and so peerlesse, fal-') to suggest, that it will be highly satis
factory to numbers of your readers, to how its symptoms gathered and grew, find its pages enriched with occasi- and got the acendency over all the mional selections from new publications nistrations of human care and of huof merit, which few have the means man tenderness, when it every day of perusing entire.
became more visible, that the patient Your friend, was drawing to his close, and that noAMICUS. thing in the whole compass of art, or
any of its resources, could stay the The following striking passage oc- advances of the sare and last malady, curs in the sermon on “the Necessity have you never thought on seeing the of the Spirit to give effect to the bed of the sufferer surrounded by other preaching of the gospel." Speaking comforters than those of the patriarch, of the “natural man understanding (Job) when from morning to night, and the literal import of the scriptures, he from night to morning, the watchful says,-“ By the mere dint of that family sat at his couch, and guarded shrewdness and sagacity with which his broken slumbers, and interpreted nature has endowed him, he will per- all his signals, and tried to hide from ceive a meaning here, which you will his observation the tears which attestreadily acknowledge, could not be per- ed him to be the kindest of parents, ceived by a man in a state of idiotism. when the sad anticipation spread its In the case of the idiot, there is a gloomy stillness over the household, complete barrier against his ever ac- and even sent forth an air of seriousquiring that conception of the meaning ness and concern upon the men of of this passage, which is quite com- other families, when you have witnesspetent to a man of strong and accomed the despair of friends, who could plished understanding. For the sake only turn to cry at the spectacle of his of illustration, we may conceive this last agonies, and had seen how little poor outcast from the common ligbt it was that weeping children and inof humanity, in some unaccountable quiring neighbours could do for him, fit of attention, listening to the sound when you have contrasted the unreof these words, and making some stre-lenting necessity of the grave, with the nuous but abortive attempts to arrive feebleness of every surrounding endeaat the same comprehension of them vour to ward it, has the thought never with a man whose reason is entire. entered within you-How powerless is But he cannot shake off the fetters the desire of man! how sure and how which the hand of nature has laid upon resistless is the decree of God!” . his understanding; and he goes back again to the dimness and delirium of his unhappy situation; and his mind locks itself up in the prison-hold of its
A WORD OF ADVICE TO HUSBANDS confined and darkened faculties; and
BY J. BH. if, in his mysterious state of existence, he formed any conception whatever of Love so, that you may be feared ; rule the words now uttered in your hear- so, that you may be honoured; be not ing, we may rest assured that it stands too diffident, lest you teach her to dedistinguished, by a wide and impassa- ceive you; nor too suspicious, lest you ble chasm, from the conception of him, teach her to abuse you; if you see a who has all the common powers and fault, let your love hide it; if she conperceptions of the species.”
tinue in it, let your wisdom reprove The annexed picture of the death-it: Reprove her not openly, lest she house of an expiring mortal, has all grow bold; rebuke her not tauntingly, this popular writer's depth of feeling. I lest she grow spiteful: Proclaim not “We may as well think of seeking a her beauty, lest she grow proud; boast refuge in the applause of men, from not of her wisdom, lest you be thought the condemnation of God, as we may foolish : Let her not see your imperthink of seeking a refuge in the power fections, lest she disdain you; profane or the skill of men, from the mandate not her ears with loose communication, of God, that our breath shall depart lest you defile the sanctuary of her from us. And have you never thought, modesty. An understanding husband when called to the chamber of the dy- makes a discreet wife, and she a haping man, when you saw the warning py husband. of death upon his countenance, and ! Leeds, March 30, 1821.
| Then Jesus arose, and rebuked the winds
minds. THE JUBILEE OF THE ROYAL ACA
His voice was soon heard in the sea's angry DEMY OF ARTS, 1819.
deep, Most respectfully inscribed to the President, Ben- Now 'tis sinooth-the air's calm-as an infant
Jamin West, Esq. Historical Painter to his asleep.
In the voyage of life every succour receives, SUCCESSIVE seasons, and revolving suns,
That Omnipotence, Wisdom, and Heavenly
Love, At length bring on the day of Jubilee!
Provide to ensure his reception above. Albion, for ages past in arms renown'd,
F. R. S. Now boasts the rivalship in arts with Rome! Peace reigns, and the Augustan age revives : Minerva, patroness of arts and arms,
TO THE MEMORY OF THE LATE Resumes her tranquil sway. The sacred Nine Assemble roand Apollo's throne, and wake
HENRY KIRK WHITE. To barmony divine their silver lyres:
Pure Spirit! thou art now from trouble free, They raise the vocal lay, in concert join, | The things which clouded thy young hemiAnd chant the noble acts of George the sphere, Third!
The prospects thou did'st raise, however dear, Britannia, bail! we to thy Sov'reign owe Have past into one gulph-Eternity. The restoration of the Arts :- to him
It is it was it will for ever be ; Who patroniz'd, with gen'rous fost'ring care, The friendless sorrow, and there falls no tear ; The talents which adorn this noble dome !" They sigh, but sigh in vain, for none will hear; Where venerable West,
To them, the world is as the mighty seaThe honour'd father of the British school, A troubled waste :- But thou, pure Spirit, art Presides with placid brow, and eye benign! Remov’d from earthly selfishness and woo,
Fame soars above exulting, and unfurls | And now in songs immortal hast a part; Her glorious roll of honourable names, Receiving from that fouut, whence blessings Whose magic touch has made the canvass glow,
flow, And giv'n to Beauty's cheek unfading bloom! More than this earth had ever to impart, Whose wondrous creative skill transmits And nobler gifts than inortals oould bestow. " The noble acts of British heros down
G. M. In bright succession to posterity; And those who from obdurate marble carve The almost speaking bust, or form divine, Sach as compelld Pygmalion to adore !
EXTRACT, &c. Taste contemplates the rich assemblago, SIR,-Should the following beautiful And Admiration stands in rapture lost! I lines, extracted from Beaumont and Tbrice bappy is le! Imperial Albion, hail !
Fletcher's Comedy of “ Nice Valour,” Cradle of Genius, cherisher of Arts, The seat of Science and of Literature !
and which are said to be the origin and This stately edifice, these classic walls,
model of Milton's exquisite Poem, “ II These storied ceilings, and this lofty dome, Penseroso," be consistent with the naDisplay the royal donor's noble mind !
ture of your entertaining work, their Who, lost to sublunary scenes, surveys,
insertion will confer a favour on your's With intellectual eye, a diadem Immortal and unfading in the skies !
respectfully, Long may the British artists celebrate
IOTA. This bright auspicious day of Jubilee !
Liverpool, May 29, 1821.
As short as are the vights
Wherein yoa spend your folly! Protected by a Brunswick on the throne ! There's nought in this life sweet,
If man were wise to see't,
But only melancholy;
Oh! sweetest melancholy !
A look that's fasten'd to the ground,
A midnight bell, a parting groan !
These are the sounds we feed upon; "Save, save, or we perish, we sink in the Then stretch our bones in a still gloomy vallake.”'
Nothing's so dainty sweet as lovely melan• Soiperset-House.
choly. No. 32,- VOL. III.
| Where flowers of enjoyments are spread in Addressed to a Lady in Distress of Mind.
Which, soon as he plucks them, immediTHERE is a heart-a tender heart,
ately die. Which feels the pang of others' woe; A soul which fears a hidden part,
But changed is the scene—all is gloomy and Nor seeming grief to know.
The comfortess Hope from his bosom is There is a cordial, sanguine mind,
fled : Which looks beyond the gloom afar ; Recumbent he rests, like a pilgrim when weary, Sees cares and fears borne on the wind,
His journey completed-on Death's silent And hails the morning star.
bed! That beart, that soul, that mind is mine, The green turf's his mantle--the cold earth his That pressing grief and magic joy;
pillowAnd mine the fervent prayer divine,
A grave-stone contains the short age of his To Him above the sky.
fame : There is a sigh-a rending sigh,
Behold there his tomb !-and its shade is a
willow, Which heaves the honestlabouring breast,
That sighs as the reader pronounces his A starting tear,-a languid eye,
name. But known to the distress'd. There is a dire,-a bursting storm,
Now seasons are fled—and new seasons suc
ceeding, Impending o'er the naked head :
The rank-growing nettles encircle his shrine; But see! a shining beavenly form
On his once gentle breast the wild leveret is Appears, and it is fled.
feeding, That sigh, that tear, that gloomy night,
And who on his tomb-stone can trace out a O Madain! thou hast known as thine :
line? But His that heaven-born face of light,
1 o Time! thou despoiler of Beauty and Nature, Whose fiat bade it shine.
I see thee disfig'ring Lithography's page : Seek thou to him. His powerful voice Where Pity, no longer with each grief-woru Call’d forth from wild, chaotic night,
feature, This rolling sphere, and said “ Rejoice," Laments o'er the mouldering dast of the To all that saw the light.
sage. He is thy God, and He alone,
Even Friendship and Mem'ry his pame bave Can chase thy gloomy fears away
forgotten, O trust him ! for thou yet shalt own
His moss-cover'd marble no longer retains His providential sway.
1 A useless inscription for bim who lies rotten; AN IRISHMAN.
Since dark-veild Forgetfulness claims his
Return, O! my Mase! from a scene so disA PICTURE OF FUTURITY.
tressing, SIR, I have just accidentally cast my! Ah! why dost thou search in Futurity's eye on the following verses, published I. sbade, in a Newspaper in this country in the
For sorrows so poignant? for anguish so
pressing ? vear 1809." If you have no objection, | The figure's unreal thy fancy bas made. I could wish to see them in the Impe
But Time frowning answers rial Magazine.
now are springing, I am, Sir, respectfully, &c.
“ To paint with their beauties the meadow
ALEXANDER. Downpatrick, 26th May, 1821.
“ They'll bloom scarce a day-and the bard
that's now singing, « Why dost thou build the hall? Son of the
“ Will shortly exhibit the piece he has
drawn." winged days! Thou lookest from thy towers to-day ;-yet a few years and the blast of the desert comes--it howls in thy empty court, and
ELEGY whistles round thy half-worn shield.” OSSIAN.
To the Memory of Anna Margaretta, late Wife O! mark yonder youth, on the hill's summit
of John Brereton, Esq. Bointon, Norfolk, who bounding!
departed this lifé March 21st, 1819, aged 62 As light as the roe on green Morven of years. (By the Rev. Samuel Jones.)
streams; He gazes with joy on the prospects sur-A solemn knell is heard; the awful sound, rounding :
To aged and to young, to great and small, False visions of pleasure! fair fanciful | Replete with admonition wise is found ; dreams!
Not only to the relatives, but all. Now, thoughtless descending to vales of delu- The voice says, “ Cry.”—Then let the fiat pass, sion,
And may the call divine be beard with power : Life's wide-spreading landscape enraptures What shall I cry? Behold all flesh is grass,
And mundane beauty withers like a flower.
910 common rrum But stop the sound, too poignant to the breast,* | She now, we doubt not, sings in accents sweet,
A wile, a naother, sister, friend, deplor'd: The anthems of the ransom'd choir above. Yet wby lament that one so lov'd is blest?
Thou fairest among women, whither gone Be Heaven's decree, while nature weeps,
Thy dear Beloved? Whither turn'd aside? ador'd.
The answer, My Beloved is withdrawn The loss of those most near by nature's bond Into his garden with his constant bride. Is great indeed ; a husband lov'd bereav'd
Unto the beds of spices he repairs--
The churches, where his faithful saints are
To gather sweetest flow'rs, of grace the heirs, Not oply to ber family endear’d,
For glory meet, as lilies fully blown. But all within the circle that she mov'd,
Tho' flow'rs may fade, we thus from scripture Will witness bear how much she was rever'd
know, In Israel a mother she has prov'd!
That Christians, though remov'd, shall never Let one connected as a friend sincere,
Transplanted ouly from the church below, A pastor, to a constant hearer pay
As wreaths immortal flourishing on high. A tribute due, and, wiping off the tear,
Permission take with confidence to say-
(IN HIS POEM, CARTHON, VOL. I.)
Oh, Thou that rollest in yon azure fields, And prov'a that He could all her wants sup Round as the orbs of my forefathers' shields !
Whence are thy beams, o San! thy lucent light? Renouncing proud self-confidence, aware
Thou comest forth in awful beauty bright; That all our actions best with sin are stain'd,
The vanquish'd stars are hidden in the skies ; She sought a righteousness divine in prayer,
The pale, cold moon, in western oceans lies; And by ber conduct prov'd her faith un
But thou unmov'd roll'st on. Great trav’ller,
What force can be companion of thy way?. To latest time her memory shall endure,
The mountain oaks, tho mighty, fall away; Her acts of charity on ev'ry tongue : The mountains too themselves with years decay; Her greatest pleasure here to feed the poor, The ocean ebbs and flows upon the shore, To clothe the naked-to instruct the young.. Or refluent beats the rocky surf no inore;
The moon in heav'n is lost, nor signs remain, But like the fragrant lily of the vale,
To shew her course along the starry plain : As she, while living, hambly sought the
But thou remain'st the same effulgent force, shade,
Rejoicing in the brightness of thy course. I hear her dictate—« Stop :" then cast a veil,
With tempest when the world in darkness lies, And be her will, as still alive, obey'd.
When thunders roll, and forky lightning flies; But caution due observ'd, we must revere In dazzling beauty starting from a cloud, The grace of God, which magnified, may
Fearless, thou laughest at the storm aloud. nuove
But vain the cheering rays on Ossian shed, The hearts of others, who his goodness hear, From him the great sablime is ever fled ; Exciting prayer that they his love may prove.
Whether at early morn with zephyr gay,
In the clear east thy yellow ringlets play; To God the praise, not to the creature due,
Or gayly drest in lucid robes of state, Acknowledge and adore his righteoas claim :
Thy beams are trembling at the western gate. The dear departed saint this lesson knew,
But still perhaps thy rays translucent shine: And doubtless still acknowledges the same.
And share alone the fleeting hour that's mine. Before in bondage known, through fear of death, Then careless, reckless of the morning's call, She like a summer's eve repos'd her head;
| Immur'd in clouds, and heedless of thy fall, To God serenely yielding up her breath,
Will sleep.-If so, exult, thou rising Sun ! By Him supported on her dying bed. | Too soon, alas, Youth's glowing hour is run!
Age is unlovely as the gleam of light Resign'd, although withheld the rays or sun
Shed by the moon thro' broken clouds by night, Of those who strong assurance here enjoy; While yet the mists are lingering on the hill, The will of God, she said, in all be done
And dreary damps the humid valley fill, For me be Christ to live, or gain to die. When from the terrors of the northern blast Remov'd the fear of Death's approaching dart,
The traveller shrinks ere half his journey's The clouds withdrawn, again to one she said,
past. . "To God be praise, who does to me impart 1
Peterborough, May 2, 1821. "M. * The victory through Christ, our living head.”
EPITAPH IN CHICHESTER CHURCH - YARD. Her hope and constant prayer, in heaven to HERE lies an old Soldier whom all must applaud, meet
Since he suffer'd much hardship at home and The Saviour, and adore bis sov'reign love; abroad;
But the hardest engagement he ever was in, The bell was stopped by order of the af. Was the battle of SELF in the conquest of SIN. dicted relatives,