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interest, upon Him who has said, "in heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father who is in heaven." And O, that coming generations may receive, amid these wild and impressive scenes, the inspiring lessons of truth, of piety, and religious hope.

16. May the eye that from this point, looks mournfully upon the surrounding landscape, be favored like Moses from the summit of Pisgah, with bright visions of the promised rest in heaven. May the tears that fall upon these consecrated grounds, water a harvest of religious fruits, which shall be gathered into life everlasting. From this mount of vision, may "Prayer, ardent, open heaven,

Let down a stream of sacred glory,
On the consecrated hour,

Of man in audience with the Deity."

17. From these groves, may levity be for ever banished, to give place to the awful emotions, awakened by the conscious presence of etherial spirits. Let the step be slow and reveren. tial, let the voice be pitched to tones of seriousness and truth,— let the bosom heave with tenderness and love, and let the whole soul bow, in devout adoration of Him who holds the keys of life and of death.

The address from which this beautiful and eloquent extract is taken, was delivered, at the Rochester Cemetry, called "Mount Hope," in the fall of 1838, and repeated before the athenæum and young men's association of that city. Mount Hope is one of the most beautiful cemeteries in America. It is about a mile south of Rochester. The thought did not occur to me, when the above portion of the dedication address was embodied in the "Elocution," that my beloved wife would so soon be buried there. But alas! so it is. On the 26th January, 1844, her immortal spirit passed peacefully into the regions of endless day. With a mother's fondness and exultation, she may, by the permission of God, attend our dear daughter, Isidore, as an invisible guardian angel, to warn her of dangers, and to conduct her

-"to fairer worlds on high."

It seems but as yesterday when she

."" flung her white arms round"

me, and our mutual language to each other was:

"Thou art all that this poor heart cling to."

The address of Dr. Church, commanded the silence and admiration of the multitude who heard it. This extract from it should be read or recited, under the influence of "the awful emotions awakened by the conscious presence of etherial spirits."

124. REFLECTIONS ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND.-Caroline Matilda.

1. Of blasted expectations, with'ring joys,
Of bliss departed and a friend deceased,
"Sing, heavenly muse." My guide, preceptor, friend,
Whose glowing heart with fine sensation fraught,
Knew how to estimate the worth of mind,
My friend is dead! He knew himself to sing,
And wake the "living lyre" in strains so sweet
That Music's self might listen and approve.

2. Enwrapt in ecstasy, his hand could swell
The full ton'd organ, or the grave bassoon,
In strains of moral music. He could touch
The lively viol, or symphonious lute,

3.

4.

And while his fingers swept the trembling strings,
Sadness was soothed, and melancholy smiled;
Nor less harmonious was his dulcet voice,
Nor less his heart with fine emotion glowed,
When, at his bidding, every vocal power
Was called to action, in ascribing praise
To Him, to whom all voices should ascend
In loud unceasing anthems.

But no more
This voice is heard. His rapture-beaming eye
Is closed for ever in the sleep of death!
His lyre is broken, and his harp, unstrung,
Forgotten lies-save when the mournful breeze,
In dying cadence, sighs among the strings,
And wakes the tones of wo.

But is his voice

For ever silent? Will he wake no more?
Is that etherial fire for ever quenched?
For ever dead? Hence, coward deist, hence!
And hence ye vain and skeptic theories.
Still let me live, and let me die a Christian;
For he whose memory inspires my lay,
In all the triumph of a Christian died.

5. See through the gloom that hovers round his grave,
An angel form appears. Upon her brow
Sits smiling peace, and in her hand she bears
The charter of immortal blessedness,
The sacred volume, whose unerring page
Declares that "life and immortality

6.

Are brought to light." 'Tis blest religion;
The shades of death disperse at her approach,
And hope enchanted smiles.

I sorrow then,
Not without hope, for we shall meet again,
Again shall mingle voices, while our hearts
Shall join the perfect songs of seraphim.
Thou too, Eliza, let thy widow'd heart
Exult in glorious hope; the star, that sets
Beyond the western wave, is not extinct;
It brightens in another hemisphere,
And gilds another evening with its rays.

7. O glorious hope of immortality!

At thought of thee, the coffin and the tomb
Affright no more, and e'en the monster, Death,
Loses his fearful form, and seems a friend.
At thought of thee, my eager, glowing heart
Lets go its hold on sublunary bliss,

And longs to drop this cumbrous clog of earth,
And soar to bliss unfading and secure.

8. Exist for ever! O, transporting thought!
When countless ages shall have roll'd away,
And time shall cease, the deathless energies
Of heaven-born mind, all changes shall survive,
And never die.

9

Oh, infidelity,

What solace canst thou offer to the soul,

In all the sad vicissitude of grief,

That pains the feeling heart? Will thy sad dream

Of dread annihilation, sooth the heart

That mourns for friends departed? Will it cheer The fearful hour, when pale, relentless death

Dissolves the ties of nature? Then the Christian
Can lift his head exulting, and behold

A blest re-union in a world of bliss!

10. Oh thou eternal Source of light and life,
From whom all beings came,-instruct my heart
To bow submissive to thy sovereign will,
And bless the hand that blasts my rising hopes
Of earthly bliss, and draws me to Thyself.

11. When that dear friend, to whom I consecrate
This pensive lay, first taught my youthful voice
The enrapt'ring powers of sacred harmony,
He bade me consecrate my vocal powers,
My heart, my voice, to great Jehovah's praise.

12. And now, if spirits of the good, can view
The scenes they left, and friends they loved below,
O, shade lamented, hear the solemn vow!
While here I dedicate my heart, my voice,
My life, my lyre, to that eternal Power
Who, from primeval nothing, bade me live,
And bade me live to Him. And when my
Forgets the sacred theme, oh, may it cease
Its regular vibrations, and my hand
Forget its cunning.

13.

heart

Sainted shade, farewell!

Fain would my muse pursue thy towering flight,
And track thy mounting spirit as it soars
Above the stars; but yet for me remain

A few more conflicts, and a few more tears,
By native feeling wrung; then the bright morn
Of bliss immortal shall arise, and peace
For ever and for ever shall be mine.

14. Then death-divided friends shall part no more.
Then shall we join the bright angelic choir,
And swell the choral song; while not one note
Discordant or untuneful, shall disturb
The full, harmonic, heavenly, holy lay.

This beautiful and sublime poem appeared in the winter of 1818 in the Methodist Magazine, furnished me by John D. Gillett, and published at New-York, where the writer resided. The same year, it contained two other poems, over the signature of Caroline Matilda, (her name was Caroline Matilda Thayer) one called "The Day of Judgment," the other, "Choose God for your Portion." This is decidedly superior to either of those; and it appears to me to possess much merit, both in sentiment and style. It relates to the most interesting and important subject, that ever can agitate the human mind. The adage that " poetry proves nothing," is not true. This poem answers correctly, and in the most glowing manthe great question which

ner.

"The holy instinct of the heart,"

prompts us to ask, and which the scriptures themselves propound: "If a man die, shall he live again ?" It speaks of the eternal re-union of Christians in heaven, and so does the word of God.

"They sin who tell us love can die—
With life all other passions fly;

But this a flame that ever burneth,

From heaven it came, to heaven returneth."

The elocution of this piece should be dignified and solemn.

125. EDUCATION THE PRINCIPLE OF ALL PROSPERITY.-Rev. Robert Hall.

1. Knowledge in general, expands the mind, exalts the faculties, refines the taste of pleasure, and opens innumerable sources of intellectual enjoyment. By means of it, we become less dependent for satisfaction upon the sensitive appetites; the gross pleasures of sense are more easily despised, and we are made to feel the superiority of the spiritual to the material part of our nature. Instead of being continually solicited by the influence and irritation of sensible objects, the mind can retire within herself, and expatiate in the cool and quiet walks of contemplation.

2. The poor man who can read, and who possesses a taste for reading, can find entertainment at home, without being tempted to repair to the public house, for that purpose. His mind can find him employment, when his body is at rest; he does not lie prostrate and afloat on the current of incidents,

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