bols. From these two examples-the Hebrew poetry and the Christian architecture-let us imagine the heart of Israel chanting the Psalms, as they ascended yearly to the temple; or the devotion of a St. Augustine and his followers converting ancient Britons, and, in the room of rude druidical stones, founding the Christian edifice. To realize such an imagination, is to see the true bearings of art upon a nation. Not a thousand, but one David, composed the Psalms, and the whole people poured out their soul to Jehovah in their music. Not all Christendom, but a few pious monks, framed the ancient churches; but they have served as fit abodes for millions of the children of Christ. May they never fall, but continue to serve for millions yet to come in the second glorious advent of the Lord-the New Jerusalem!

We are all hope for the future: not hope, however, unalloyed— not without a fear. We see in the world, now, more science than the world ever before possessed; we see, also, slowly yet steadily arising, a deep philosophical spirit, and a vast amount of philanthropy and piety, wide, spread, serious, and earnest; and we see within our own hands, as it were, a book opened, which, like Jacob's ladder, holds steppings to the skies. Does not such a vision bid us hope on? It does, it does; and years yet to come will see our desires realized, long after we have left this changing scene-our last words pointing to the future: Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace according to thy word, for my eyes have seen the salvation of thy people Israel.

A RETROSPECT.

BY J. MONTGOMERY, ESQ

I LEFT the God of truth and light,
I left the God who gave me breath,
To wander in the wilds of night,
To perish in the snares of death!

Sweet was His service; and His yoke
Was light and easy to be borne;-
Through all His bonds of love I broke;
I cast away His gifts, in scorn.

I danced, in folly's giddy maze;

And drank the sea, and chased the wind; But falsehood lurked in all her ways, Her laughter left a pang behind.

I dreamed of bliss in pleasure's bowers,
While pillowing roses stayed my head;
But serpents hissed among the flowers-
I woke, and thorns were all my bed.

In riches, then, I sought for joy,

And placed in glittering ore my trust;

But found that gold was all alloy,

And worldly treasure fleeting dust.

I wooed ambition-climbed the pole,

And shone among the stars;-but fell Headlong, in all my pride of soul,

Like Lucifer, from heaven to hell.

Now poor, and lost, and trampled down, Where shall the chief of sinners fly, Almighty vengeance, from thy frown? Eternal justice, from thy eye?

Lo! through the gloom of guilty fears,
My faith discerns a dawn of grace;
The Sun of Righteousness appears
In Jesus' reconciling face.

My suffering, slain, and risen Lord!
In deep distress I turn to Thee-
I claim acceptance, on thy word,
My God! my God! forsake not me!

Prostrate before thy mercy-seat,

I dare not, if I would, despair; None ever perished at thy feet,

And I will lie for ever there.

AMY VERNON.

BY JOHN LUSCOMBE.

She was

A SPLENDID apartment in the palace of the Queen was brilliantly illuminated; and a somewhat large assembly surrounded the form of their sovereign, who stood at the upper end of the room. listening attentively to the account of a young and noble female, who had that day submitted to the torture, rather than abjure the tenets of the religion, which her own heart, and the example of the holy martyrs, who had suffered at the stake, assured her was most acceptable in the eyes of her Creator.

When the recital was concluded, the Queen cast an appealing glance on those near her, saying: "Methinks, my lords, we have allowed these most unholy and wretched heretics to remain unwatched too long in this our country; active measures must be used, or the land will be overspread with them. I could have borne it patiently had they been of low degree; but now our dungeons throng with illustrious prisoners, who publicly avow the cursed opinions of those whose names would madden me to mention." Exhausted by the rapidity of her utterance, she leaned for a while against the marble pillars of the chamber, and the deepening frown on her brow told of the rage that held dominion within. Presently, she spoke again; "And now, most noble gentlemen, I bid ye say how we shall deal with this erring maiden, whose gentle birth ensures some mercy. To your care, my Lord Primate," she continued, turning to Cardinal Pole, "I consign the person of Amy Vernon; see that no pains be spared in your

endeavors to lead her from her present evil course, and my gratitude will be your due; but should thy mild counsels avail nothing, let tortures of more acute kinds be resorted to;" and she mechanically stretched and wreathed the ermine border of her mantle, as if to represent the convulsions of a sufferer upon the rack. The cardinal bowed his head lowly in obedience to her commands. "Farewell, sirs," resumed Mary; "on the morrow, at the stated hour, we will meet again, when, my Lord Cardinal, I trust to hear of the success of your labors." She walked slowly to an inner apartment, the tapestried curtain fell over the door-way, and the assembly instantly dispersed.

It was now nearly two hours since the vesper bell had sounded, and the same ecclesiastics occupied the Queen's council-chamber, to adopt more rigorous punishments to repress the heretical opinions of the venerable Cranmer, who had lately suffered at the stake.

"How fares my noble friend?" said Mary, extending her hand graciously to Cardinal Pole, as he entered the room; "I bid thee report speedily of the state of the damsel Amy Vernon; she has doubtless attended to thy counsels, and is willing to accept our pardon on such terms as we may determine on; - is it not so, my lord?"

"Alas! madam," he replied; "I grieve to say, she rejects all my advice, and has blindly devoted herself to martyrdom, preferring the funeral pile to the abandonment of her faith: unless," he added, in a low tone, "your Majesty will be graciously pleased to pardon one whose religious opinion is her only fault."

"And does not that fault, my lord, overbalance all her other virtues?" returned the Queen, vehemently; "by my throne and sceptre, thou dost amuse me, by calling it her only fault. I think I have plainly shown, by the execution of the Lady Jane Grey, that I value not much personal beauties, nor mental accomplishments;" and she laughed long and loudly.