reator adoring,
The sweetness of song with their thanksgivings blend.

On the breezes of night, when the anthem is swelling,
With shadowy splendour the air seems to glow,
While fancy could hail each bright star as the dwelling
Of spirits released from their bondage below.

When o'er the raised soul high sensations are stealing,
The glorious spark immortality gave
Seems to lose, in the glow of devotional feeling,
Its portion of suffering, and soar o'er the grave.

To those regions of gladness, eternally glowing,
With the glory of Him who created the spheres,
From the light of whose countenance blessings are flowing,
To wipe from the eyes of the mourner all tears.

Where glorified spirits, each other outvying,
The praise of the Godhead triumphantly sing;
Such strains as might steal on the Saviour when dying,
As angels supported their crucified King.

To those mansions of bliss, for the faithful preparing,
Who the ordeal of suffering undauntedly tried,
With their master and king in his glory are sharing,
And exult that, to live, they in agonies died.

On the soul while such visions of splendour are burning,
It sighs for that peace the world cannot bestow;
Till the shadows of night, on the spirit returning,
Awake it again to its portion of woe.

There was something in these lines that greatly softened the heart of
George Hope; and, turning to Josiah, he said with a deep sigh:--

"Josiah, does God always take vengeance on our crimes?"

"Not if we sincerely repent of them, and faithfully promise to sin no
more;" returned Shirley; "and, should we again fall into temptation, God
knows the weakness of our nature, and is ever more willing to forgive
than we to implore his mercy."

"I have deeply repented of my past errors," said George; "and yet I feel
as if my transgressions were not pardoned."

"You must banish such thoughts as these, my dear George," returned
Henry, "or you will never be happy. I have heard my Father say, that if
we sincerely repent of any crime we have committed, we must not doubt
the mercy of our God. Surely you have every reason to be more cheerful
than you are. Do but contrast your present character with your idle
pursuits last year; and I am sure you will rejoice at the change."

George shuddered, while Henry continued--

"You were universally and justly despised