Love over it presideth,

With meek and modest awe,
Its daily service guideth,

And shows its perfect law-
If there thy faith shall fail thee,
If there no shrine be found,
What can thy prayers avail thee,
With kneeling crowds around?
Go! leave thy gifts unoffered,
Beneath religion's dome,
And be her first fruits proffered

At home, dear home.

BERNARD BARTON.

DEVOTION.

To religious emotions as to other things the truth applies" By their fruits ye shall know them." If these feelings do not tend to "purify the affections from debasing attachments;" if they do not tend to "form the inclinations to piety and virtue," they certainly are not devotional. Upon him whose mind is really prostrated in the presence of his God, the legitimate effect is, that he should be impressed with a more sensible consciousness of the Divine presence; that he should deviate with less facility trom the path of duty; that his desires and thoughts should be reduced to Christian subjugation; that he should feel an influential addition to his dispositions to goodness; and that his affections should be expanded towards his fellow-men. He who rises from the sensibilities of seeming devotion, and finds

that effects such as these are not produced in his mind, may rest assured, that in whatever he has been employed, it has not been in the pure worship of that God who is a Spirit. To the real prostration of the soul in the Divine presence, it is necessary that the mind should be still:-"Be still, and know that I am God." Such devotion is sufficient for the whole mind; it needs not-perhaps in its purest state it admits not-the intrusion of external things. And when the soul is thus permitted to enter as it were into the sanctuary of God; when it is humble in his presence; when all its desires are involved in the one desire of devotedness to him; then is the hour of acceptable worship-then the petition of the soul is prayer-then is its gratitude thanksgiving— then is its oblation praise.

DYMOND.

THE MARINER'S CHARGE.

MAY thy life pass on a summer sea,

Where winds and waves are still;

And thy bark careering gaily,

Obey the Pilot's will.

With a steady prow turned to the port

Of everlasting rest;

Nor thy course be stayed by the siren's song, For there are the good and blest.

Be firm in heart. Look o'er thy chart,

1

Thou know'st that it is true;

Hear him who often speaks to thee,

He knows the passage through.

List to the word! for there are shoals

And quicksands in thy way;

And trim thy little vessel well,

But not thy course delay.

Let not ungenerous songs of mirth,

Of revelry and glee,

Be heard above and round thy bark,
On that calm summer sea.

For though awhile serene and still
Thy life may pass along;

Yet most will feel, in course of time,
The tempest fierce and strong.

Thou need'st not fear its direful rage,
Nor yet the whirlwind's roar;
If care and peaceful trust be thine,
Thou wilt surely reach that shore,
Where the poor and heavy laden,

And the weary find a home;

And the wanderers know a Father's love, Nor seek again to roam.

Then set the sail. Obey the voice
Of Him who, at the helm,
Now speaks to thee, for he has tried

And knows the passage well.

List to the word! for there are shoals

And quicksands in thy way;

And trim thy little vessel well,

But not thy course delay.

M. J.