WHEN THE HEART IS AT REST.

How sweet are the fields when the heart is at rest,
The snow-drop and lily, and lily how white;
How bright is the sky when the laboring breast,

Divested of sorrow, of sorrow takes flight;

To those regions of peace where no tempest disturbing
The soul in its flight, in its flight, in its flight;
It expands with emotion,

No creature approaching

To tarnish its prospects, its prospects so bright.

To obtain these wide prospects and wonderful treasures,

Let us take our worst portion, worst portion before;
Nor by doating on earth with its few fleeting pleasures,
Deprive us for ever, for ever of more:

'Tis thus, and thus only, our hearts will be worthy
The seats of the blest, of the blest, of the blest,
Who at length will safe waft us,

To Heaven aloft us,

Where joys will for ever, for ever arrest,

VARIETY.

An old work has lately fallen into our hands, entitled, "Essays on the Nature and Principles of Taste," by the Rev. ARCHIBALD ALISON, L. L. D. F. R. s. who is, in our opinion, entitled to the praise of considerable ingenuity in the execution of this performance; and though we cannot, in all cases, agree with him, yet we must acknowledge he has treated his subject with great accuracy of observation, and in a manner singularly engaging. The following passages are beautiful:

"Did you never observe, (says Mr. Gray, in a letter to a friend) while rocking winds are piping loud, that pause, as the gust is recollecting itself, and rising upon the ear in a shrill and plaintive note, like the swell of an Æolian harp? I do assure you there is nothing in the world so like the voice of a spirit." Such a sound in itself is inconsiderable, and resembles many others which are very far from being sublime; but as the forerunner of the storm, and the sign of all the imagery we connect with it, it is sublime in a very great degree. There is in the same manner said to be a VOL. I. No. 3.

S

low rumbling noise preceding an earthquake, in itself very inconsiderable, and generally likened to some very contemptible sounds; yet in such a situation, and with all the images of danger and horror to which it leads, I question whether there is another sound so dreadfully sublime. The soft and placid tone of the human voice is surely not sublime; yet in the following passage, which of the great images that precede it, is so powerfully so? It is a passage from the first book of Kings, in which the Deity is described as appearing to the prophet Elijah. "And he said, go forth, and stand upon the mount before the Lord. And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind and after the wind an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake and after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice. And it was so, when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his mantle."

"There is scarcely in nature a more trifling sound than the buz of flies; yet, I believe there is no man of common taste, who, in the deep silence of a summer's noon, has not found something strikingly sublime in this inconsiderable sound.

"The falling of a drop of water produces in general a very insignificant and unexpressive sound; yet sometimes in vaults, and in large cathedrals, a single drop is heard to fall at intervals, from the roof, than which I know not if there is a single sound more strikingly sublime.

"One can scarcely mention a sound less productive of the sublime, than the sound of a hammer. How powerfully, however, in the following description, has Shakspeare made this vulgar sound sublime!

"From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night,
The hum of either army stilly sounds,

That the fixt centinels almost receive

The secret whispers of each other's watch.
Fire answers fire, and through their paly flames
Each battle sees the other's umbered face:
Steed answers steed, in high and boastful neighs.
Piercing the earth's dull ear, and from the tents
The armorers accomplishing the knights,
With busy hammers closing rivets up,

Give dreadful note of preparation."

"The sound of oars in water is surely very far from being sublime; yet in a tragedy of Thomson's this sound is made strikingly sublime, when (in the person of a man who had been left by the treachery of his companions upon a desert island) he describes the horrors he felt, when he first found his being deserted; and adds,

I never heard

A sound so dismal as their parting oars."

A certain rich physician was lately complaining in a coffeehouse, that he had three fine daughters, to whom he should give ten thousand dollars each, and yet he could find nobody to marry them. "With your leave, Doctor," said an Irishman, who was present, stepping up and making a bow, "I'll take two of them."

ABRASAX, or ABRAXAS, the supreme god of the Basilidian sec taries, is a mystical word, composed of the Greek numerals, a, b, r, a, x, a, s, which together make up the CCCLXV. For Basilides taught, that there were 365 heavens between the earth and the empyrean: each of which heavens had its angel or intelligence, which created it; each of which angels likewise was created by the angel next above it; thus ascending by a scale to the Supreme Being, or first Creator. The Basilidians used the word Abraxas by way of charm or amulet.

ABRAXAS is also used, among antiquaries, for a species of graven gem, on which the word abraxas is usually inscribed; supposed to have been worn by the ancient Gnostics, Basilidians and Carpocratians, as an amulet or talisman against diseases. Abraxas, in this sense, is synonimous with Basilidian stone, a name by which some authors call these antiquities; or abraxean stone, as they are denominated by others. They are of divers figures and sizes; sometimes in that of rings for the fingers.

Abraxases are frequent in the cabinets of the curious: a collection of them, as complete as possible, has been much desired by several. There was a fine one formerly in the abbey of St. Genevieve, which occasioned much curiosity. They are chiefly of the third century; most of them seem to have come from Egypt

hence they became of considerable use for explaining the antiquities of that country. Sometimes they have no other inscription besides the word: but others have the name of saints, angels, or Jehovah himself annexed; though most usually the name of the Basilidian god. Sometimes there is a representation of Isis sitting on a lobes, or apis, surrounded with stars; sometimes monstrous compositions of animals, obscene images, Phalsi and Ithyfalli. The graving is rarely good, but the word on the reverse is sometimes said to be in a more modern taste than the other. The characters are usually Greek, Hebrew, Coptic, or Hetrurian, and sometimes of a mongrel kind, invented, as it would seem, to render their meaning the more inscrutable. It is disputed whether the Veronica of Montreuil, or the granite obelisk mentioned by Gori, be Abraxas.

DIVINE ORDER.

What is against divine order is impossible; as that a man who lives in evil can be saved by mere mercy. A. C. 8700. Divine Order is a perpetual commandment of God; wherefore to live according to the commandments, is to live according to divine order. A. C. 2634.

Divine Order requires, that man should prepare himself for the reception of God, and prepare himself to be a receptacle and habitation, whereinto God may enter, and dwell as in his own temple; man ought to do this of himself, but yet to acknowledge, that it is an effect of divine influence: this he should acknowledge, because he doth not perceive the presence and operation of God, although God by his most immediate presence and operation produces in man all the good of love, and all the true of faith. According to this order every man proceeds, and ought to proceed, who from natural, wishes to become spiritual. U. T. 105.

Love's Telegraph. We learn that a new system of signals has been introduced, which are rendered subservient to the affections of the heart and the obligations of parties: For example, if a gentleman wants a wife, he wears a ring on the first finger of the left hand; if he is engaged, he wears it on the second finger; if mar

ried, on the third; and on the fourth if he never intends to be married. When a lady is not engaged, she wears a hoop or diamond on the first finger; if engaged, on the second finger; if married, on the third; and on the fourth if she intends to die a maiden. When a gentleman presents a flower, a fan, or a trinket, to a lady, with the left hand, it is, on his part, an overture of regard; if she receive it with the left hand, it is an acceptance of his esteem; but if with the right hand, it is a refusal of the offer. Thus, by a few simple tokens, explained by rule, the passion of love is expressed, and through the medium of the telegraph, kindred Hearts communicate information.

THE AFRICAN AND CHRISTIAN SOLDIER.

In the most flourishing period of the reign of Lewis XIV. two negro youths, the sons of a prince, being brought to the court of France, the king appointed a Jesuit to instruct them in letters, and in the Christian religion, and gave to each of them a commission in his guards. The eldest, who was remarkable for his candor and ingenuity, made great improvements, more particularly in the doctrines of religion. A brutal officer, upon some dispute, insulted him with a blow. The gallant youth never so much as offered to resent it. A person who was his friend, took an opportunity to talk with him that evening alone upon his behaviour, which he told him was too tame, especially in a soldier. Is there, said the young African, one revelation for soldiers, and another for merchants and gownsmen? The good father, to whom I owe all my knowledge, has earnestly inculcated forgiveness of injuries to me; assuring me, that a Christian was by no means to retaliate abuses of any kind.

The good father, replied his friend, may fit you for a monastery by his lessons, but never for an army and the rules of a court. In a word, continued he, if you do not call the colonel to an account, you will be branded with the infamý of cowardice, and have your commission taken from you. I would fain, answered the young man, act consistently in every thing; but since you press me with that regard to my honor which you have always shown, I will wipe off so foul a stain, though I must own I gloried in it before.

Immediately upon this, he desired his friend to go from him, and appoint the aggressor to meet him early in the morning. Ac