in the Lord shall not want any good thing." When we entered through him into the fold, we became his, and he became ours. "Who shall lay any thing to the charge of God's elect? It is God that justifieth, and who is he that condemneth? it is Christ that died, and we are Christ's, and Christ is God's.”

In following this faithful shepherd of the flock, we have a dark valley to pass through. Some have treated this as a light matter-but even to take the most alleviated view of the subject, "it is the valley of the shadow of death." Oh! how many have entered into it, calm and apparently unconcerned; sometimes insensible from the nature of their bodily disease, sometimes from the opiates given to alleviate the excruciating pains of their sufferings. We have no proof of these following the good shepherd in the valley of death, who have not followed him in life. Men may trust to ministers, ministers may administer opiates to lull, as well as physicians-Oh! that men would cease from man, whose breath is in his nostrils, and would look only to the good shepherd, who hath left us an example that we should follow his steps. Events are fast hastening to that important point of time, when we shall all be called upon to give an account of our stewardship; "let us not then sleep, but watch and be sober." We must ere long give an account in our several stations of the time, of the money, of the opportunities to work in his service, of all the various talents committed to us by the Lord of the vineyardthe good shepherd of the fold; and as in the Psalm in which our shepherd's care is so beautifully celebrated, in the pastoral figures of a flock, a fold, a

green pasture, a flowing stream, must we not thankfully avow, that when led out we had always a table spread out for us, that all our wants were plentifully supplied, and that we had reason to say, that "they that trust in the Lord shall not want any good thing." We have also the confidence, that if we are of the flock, the wolf cannot hurt us; "he that is an hireling, and not the shepherd, whose own the sheep are not, seeth the wolf coming and leaveth the sheep," but he to whom the flock belongeth, sayeth, "I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd giveth his life for the sheep."

HUMANITY;

AN ELEGY.

RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED TO THE LADY WHO APPROPRIATED A

FUND FOR AN ANNUAL SERMON ON CRUELTY TO ANIMALS;
AND TO THE REVEREND DOCTOR, WHO DELIVERED
THE FIRST PUBLIC DISCOURSE ON THE SUBJECT.

I WEAVE no garlands for the fair and gay,
Nor laurels for the hero's brows entwine;
I join not in the maddening crowd's huzza;
An humbler flight-a softer theme be mine.

My artless muse sings not the battle's rage,
Unskill'd to soar in epic strain sublime;
She to HUMANITY devotes the page,
Content if PITY shall approve the rhyme.

When o'er the world I cast a wistful eye,
To view the wonders of creation fair,
I think of all that creep, run, swim or fly,
And all the joys that they are form'd to share.

Although denied the intellectual mind,
(On Man alone bestow'd, the boon of heaven,)
Yet each is form'd according to his kind,
To taste the bliss of life that God has given.

To range the desert, warble in the wood,
Or with light pinions cleave the azure sky,
With quivering fin to wanton in the flood,
And some on Man's protection to rely:

In every element, earth, sea, or air,
The sweets of life God has prepared for all;
They live and move by His continual care,
By whom unseen a sparrow cannot fall.

And all on Man are generously bestow'd,
To swell his comforts and increase his joy;
But he, a tyrant, 'midst the works of God,
Delights to torture, ravage and destroy.

Or, should not cruelty delight impart,
He, thoughtless, lives but for himself alone;
Too oft displays a cold and selfish heart,
And hears, unmoved, the brute creation groan.

To kill and eat, is God's and Nature's law;
But sure, it never was for Man design'd,

That he should pamper his insatiate maw,
By cruel arts of luxury refined.

Would man reflect, when he destruction deals,
Of all that cleave the flood, or skim the skies,
In death, the smallest, meanest reptile feels
"A pang as keen, as when a giant dies!"

Although his wants a victim might demand,
He would from needless cruelty refrain ;
Nor with unfeeling heart and ruthless hand
Protract the pangs of agonizing pain.

But there are deeds, ah! more disgraceful far,
Too painful for the gentle muse to sing;
When Man for sport, foments the brutal war,
In cock-pit, bull-fight, or the canine ring.

Such wanton cruelty-detested sport!
Might well degrade a barbarous savage race;
Yet, thither men of high-born blood resort,
Their image, rank, and title to disgrace!

Mix with the meanest of the vulgar crew,
The vilest, worthless dregs of human kind;
The noblest feelings of the heart subdue,
And wilfully demoralize the mind.

The fiery courser strains his utmost speed,
Like arrowy lightning darting o'er the plain;
Hark! how he pants-his sides in torrents bleed,
For what?-A boasting gambler's bet to gain.

What his reward? He's pamper'd, comb'd and fed,
As long as he can limbs and sinews strain;
That past-discharged, by him for whom he bled,
To linger out a life of toil and pain.

THE TEMPTATION OF FREDERICK,

PRINCE OF BELINO.

CHAPTER V.

"He shall give his Angels charge concerning thee."

BUT let us for a short time leave Frederick and Belo to carry on the warfare of the heart, while I make the reader acquainted with the domestic history of the Duke of Belino, the father of our hero.

He had reached his seventieth year, unpolluted by the world. Avaro, skilled in the weaknesses of the aged, had lately tried him with many temptations. But he had resisted them all; and his guardian angel now only waited the command of Heaven to lead his soul on high. His noble figure had begun to bend beneath the hand of time; his locks were silvered o'er; and his fine eye shot forth a beam benevolent on all of human kind. Resigned to Heaven's high will, his breast, becalmed, had ceased with agony to beat with disappointment's wrankling sting, with sorrow's painful throb.

Like the patriarch of old, bereaved of many child