emanation from himself, that the Lord "covereth himself with light as with a garment.' Thus it is written of the Lord, at the time of his transfiguration, that "His face did shine as the sun, and his raiment was white as the light." But though we have eyes, yet we see not. The gradual progress by which only we are able to see the Lord as the constant source of truth, is represented in the account of the creation, in the first chapter of Genesis, which spiritually treats of the regeneration of man. Though on the first day, "God said, Let there be light, and there was light," yet it was not till the fourth day, that "God said, Let there be lights in the firmament of heaven to divide the day from the night." The light of spiritual day breaks in upon the understanding, while as yet there is no spiritual sun above its horizon. And not only is the light divided from the darkness, but the firmament is created and and called heaven; the waters are gathered together into one place, and the dry land appears, and is called earth, and brings forth grass, and herbs, and trees after their kind,-before lights are set in the firmament, to divide the day from the night, and to give light upon the earth.-Amer. Mag.

ALL USEFUL EMPLOYMENTS HONOURABLE.

THE Christian temper can fulfil the duties of all stations alike, from the highest to the lowest, and is delighted in all alike, because it makes its estimate of station, not from its dignity in the sight of men, but from its agreement with the will and appointment of God. It is well aware, therefore, that every station in society, even the meanest, is an honourable station, provided it be conducive to public benefit, and in the order of the Divine providence, and that the work done in such a station, must be honourable also, whenever it is done from a disinterested justice and enlightened judgment, with a sincere regard to that providence. It joins, therefore, in the poet's song, and sings:

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Though mean below, not so esteem'd above,
Where all the grand of labour is the love;"

and directing its labours by the tenor of this song, it is concerned more about the internal spirit and disposition, in which they are performed, than about their aspect, glory, and splendour. Thus what it seeks, is USE, not dignity: faithfulness in little things, rather than fame in the greatest; the approbation of its God, more than the favour of men; and it would rather be found doing the work of humility and love, in the most obscure corner of society, and in all the drudgery of handicraft employment, than parading in the highest walks of ambition and vain glory, or even compassing sea and land to make proselytes, in the zeal of a missionary not thoroughly subdued and chastened by the meek and lowly spirit of the blessed Jesus.-Clowes.

THE EXISTENCE OF GOD.

"The fool hath said in his heart, there is no God."

IT has been asked, whether God exists? Is it not marvellous that this should ever have been doubted? Whether God exists? Read it in your beating pulse, and in your throbbing heart. Read it in the springing grass, and in the ripening harvest. Read it in the fruitful earth, and in the raging sea. Read it in the howling tempest, and in the whispering breeze. Read it in the darkness of night, and in the light of day. Read it in the sun, in the moon, and in the stars. Read it wherever a single beam of light falls on the earth, or glimmers in the sky; for the whole face of nature is but one ample volume, to teach you this elementary, but all-important lesson. Reader, if amidst these countless evidences, you have doubts, tell me whence they spring. What fact militates against the conclusion? What argument? If none, then your doubts are clearly to be resolved into the unwelcomeness of the truth itself, and your unwillingness to realize the existence of a Being whom you do not love.

THE HARVEST-MOON.

No more prevented by the solar ray,

Calm night succeeds the vanish'd tints of day,
Extends her sombre vapours o'er the west,
Whilst silence tells that toil has sunk to rest.
To give enchantment, and repose complete,
The radient harvest-moon now rises sweet,
As anxious to impart her ray serene

O'er the redundant autumn's loveliest scene,
And, by her soft pervading light, reveal

The waving corn through which the night winds steal,
Or the maturer field, whose sheaves proclaim
The ripen'd harvest, and the farmers' fame.
Still as the eye more distant views explores,
Nature presents her wide luxuriant stores,
And seems to triumph in the bounteous hour
When her fair fruits thus manifest her power.
Thrill then, my grateful heart, and yet declare,
Why fields and skies this chastening aspect wear,
Or why acute emotions, undefined,

From them subdue the all-adoring mind!
Does penetrating reason now connect
With nature's Cause this exquisite effect,
Tracing the various progress here display'd,-
The seed prolific in the bowing blade,-
The alternations of the rain and sun,

Which perfect thus the work which man begun?
Or does the vivid fancy far
pursue

The ultimate result, the cottage view,

Where virtue calmly reigns without disguise,
And makes the uninstructed peasants wise;
Who, as they nature's simple banquet share,
Perceive, adore, the providential care,
That nurtures every lily of the field,
And bids the earth to man her riches yield?

Yes, as imagination thus extends,

The light'ning glances to the cause and ends,
Love still pervades the whole stupendous plan,
And nature manifests her God to man.

Her charms, not merely to the sense confined,
For more exalted purpose were design'd:
They, the apt symbols of specific good,
Are by the heart in secret understood.
When with harmonious softness they surprise,
And exquisite emotions fondly rise,
They but excite the vital powers of mind,
And with their glowing archetypes are join'd.
If ere the senses can instruct the soul,
And in truth's cause her energies enroll;
If in the heart their influence can excite
The latent swellings of sublime delight:
Conduct each child of dust to scenes like this;
Bid him behold!—and taste extatic bliss;
And, while he scans it, may each burning thought
Recall His hand by whom the whole is wrought!
O Thou, whose wisdom, power, and love appear
In varied grandeur through the rolling year;
Thou whom the ocean and the winds obey;
To whom creation bends, and mortals pray;
How should the heart in solemn rapture rise
When thus thy glory fills the earth and skies,--
When nature's eloquent, though silent voice,
Bids man confess thy goodness, and rejoice!
May all thy children, yielding to thy will,
The wise commandments of thy love fulfil!
As in creation's vast domain they see
Order,-perfection—all produced by Thee,
O may the humbled and expanding heart
Receive the goodness which thou wouldst impart,
And, when their seasons to the autumn roll,
Present to thee the harvest of the soul!-C. P.

JAMES ARBOUIN.

MR. JAMES ARBOUIN was born at Lisbon, and received a liberal education at one of the public schools of London. In addition to the knowledge of Greek and Latin which he there acquired, he became an accomplished French scholar, and had some knowledge of Italian. He was, at one time, a leading merchant in the city of London, and, when in the high-tide of worldly prosperity, and from his distinguished talents and mercantile knowledge, was usually fixed upon to form one of those deputations which frequently attend the minister of the day, upon matters connected with the trade and revenue of the country. To the man of business he united the more elegant accomplishments of the gentleman of refined taste and education, which, added to great liveliness of manner, brilliancy of imagination, and highly agreeable and polished behaviour, attracted to his social board men in the higher classes of society, eminent alike for their knowledge and talent. While distinguished in a degree as "earth's happiest man," and surrounded by what, in the world's phraseology, is called "numerous and dear friends," a clergyman of his acquaintance introduced him to a knowledge of the existence of the theological writings of Emanuel Swedenborg, which, however, his mind was not, as yet, prepared rightly to appreciate. The work put into his hands was "The True Christian Religion ;" and this incomparable work, on a first, and no doubt a careless inspection of its contents, he, to his subsequent astonishment and humiliation, treated with ridicule and contempt. He, however, suffered it to remain upon his shelf for a time, whence it occasionally descended for the purpose of contributing to the amusement of a solitary hour, or to the united mis-directed jocularity of himself and his thoughtless after-dinner associates. But his mind was destined to undergo a change similar to that described by the poet in reference to the efficient ministry of an exemplary clergyman,

"When fools who came to scoff, remained to pray."

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