we believe will exist through all the countless days of eternity, and yet to make little inquiry whether that eternity is likely to be happy or misierable; all this is an inconsideratenesss which, if adopted in the ordinary concerns of life, would bid fair to ruin a man's reputation for common sense. Yet of this infatuation, he who lives without self-government is absolutely guilty.

It is only by scrutinizing the heart that we can know it. It is only by knowing the heart that we can reform the life. The illusions of intellectual vision would be materially connected by a close habit of cultivating an acquaintance with our hearts.

IT is the fashion of the times to try experiments in the arts, in agriculture, in philosophy. In every science the diligent professor is always afraid there may be some secret which he has not yet attained, some occult principle which would reward the labor of discovery; something even which the assiduous and intelligent have actually found out, but which has hitherto eluded his pursuit. And shall the Christian stop short in his scrutiny-shall he not examine and inquire till he lays hold on the very heart and core of religion? Why should experimental philosophy be the prevailing study, and experimental religion be branded as the badge of enthusiasm-the cant of a hollow profession? Shall we never labor to establish the distinction between studying religion critically, and embracing it practically-between having our conduct creditable and our hearts sanctified? Shall we not aspire to do the best things from the highest motives, and elevate our aims with our attainments? Why should we remain in the vestibule when the sanctuary is open? Why should we be contented to dwell in the outer court when we are invited to enter into the holiest, by the blood of Jesus? Natural

reason is not likely to furnish arguments authentically cogent, nor motives sufficiently powerful to drive us to a close self-inspection. Our corruptions foster this ignorance; to this they owe their undisputed possession of our hearts. No principle short of Christianity is strong enough to impel us to a study so disagreeable as that of our hearts. Of Christianity, humility is the prime grace, and this grace can never take root and flourish in a heart that lives in ignorance of itself. If we do not know the imperfections of our virtues, the fallibility of our best resolutions, the infirmity of our purest purposes, we cannot be humble; if we are not humble, we cannot be Christians. But it may be asked, Is there no end to this vigilence? is there no assigned period when this self-deniel may become unneces sary? no given point when we may be emancipated from this vexatious self-inspection? is the matured Christian to be a slave to the same drudgery as the novice? The true answer is: We may cease to watch when our spiritual enemy ceases to assail; we may be off our guard when there is no longer any temptation without; we may cease our self-denial when there is no more corruption within; we may give the reins to our imagination when we are sure its tendencies will be towards Heaven; we may indulge selfishness when we can do it without danger to our souls; we may neglect prayer when we no longer need the favor of God; we may cease to praise him when he ceases to be gracious to us. To discontinue our vigilence at any period short of this, will be to defeat all our hopes of happiness in Heaven.

.

NIAGARA.

BY L. H. SIGOURNEY.

FLOW on forever, in thy glorious robe
Of terror and of beauty.—Yea, flow on
Unfathom'd and resistless.-God hath set
His rainbow on thy forehead: and the cloud
Mantled around thy feet.-And he doth give
Thy voice of thunder, power to speak of Him
Eternally,-bidding the lip of man

Keep silence, and upon thy rocky altar pour
Incense of awe-struck praise.

Ah! who can dare

To lift the insect-trump of earthly hope,

Or love, or sorrow,-'mid the peal sublime
Of thy tremendous hymn? Even Ocean shrinks
Back from thy brotherhood: and all his waves
Retire abash'd. For he doth sometimes seem
To sleep like a spent laborer,—and recall
His wearied billows from their vexing play
And lull them to a cradle calm:-but thou,
With everlasting, undecaying tide,

Dost rest not, night or day.-The morning stars,
When first they sang o'er young Creation's birth,
Heard thy deep anthem, and those wrecking fires
That wait the Archangel's signal to dissolve
This solid earth, shall find Jehovah's name
Graven, as with a thousand diamond spears,
On thine unending volume.

Every leaf

That lifts itself within thy wide domain,

Doth gather greenness from thy living spray,
Yet tremble at the baptism.-Lo!-yon birds
Do boldly venture near, and bathe their wing
Amid thy mist and foam. 'Tis meet for them,
To touch thy garment's hem, and lightly stir
The snowy leaflets of thy vapor wreath,
For they may sport unharmed amid the cloud,
Or listen at the echoing gate of Heaven,
Without reproof. But as for us, it seems
Scarce lawful, with our broken tones, to speak
Familiarly of thee.-Methinks, to tint

Thy glorious features with our pencil's point,
Or woo thee to the tablet of a song,

Were profanation.

Thou dost make the soul

A wondering witness of thy Majesty,

But as it presses with delirious joy

To pierce thy vestibule, dost chain its step,
And tame its rapture, with the humbling view
Of its own nothingness, bidding it stand

In the dread presence of the Invisible,
As if to answer to its God, through thee!

THE TEST OF LIFE.

DEATH is the test of life; all else is vain—
The adulation of a fickle crowd.

Victory's proud pomp, and Glory's pageant train,
Fleet like the tinting of yon summer cloud.

REASON AND FANCY.

REASON is like the sun-of which the light is constant, uniform and lasting. Fancy, a meteor of bright but transitory lustre, irregular in its motion, and delusive in its direction.

HE that would govern his actions by the laws of virtue, must regulate his thoughts by the laws of reason; he must keep guilt from the recesses of his heart, and remember that the pleasures of Fancy, and the emotions of desire, are more dangerous as they are more hidden, since they escape the awe of observation, and operate equally in every situation, without the concurrence of external opportunities. JOHNSON.