Then, a view of the great atonement for sin- the Lamb of God, whose blood removes the curse-revives the spirit; and the self-condemned and trembling sinner may well exclaim, "This is a rock indeed, and it is higher than I. The shade it affords is sweetly refreshing to my sorrowing soul. My panting bosom recovers its serenity; my reviving appetite feasts on the bread of life, and drinks copious draughts of the waters which flow from this hallowed source. I sit under this shadow with great delight: it is high as heaven; what can mine enemies do to deprive me of its benefits? This is my rock and refuge, my fortress and my high tower- all my springs are in thee.""

And while the natural man pursues his dreary way and perceives not this shelter, but betakes himself to every refuge except that which alone could ensure his safety, and often deems himself secure when he is most exposed, God is leading his chosen people by a right way—' He

will keep the feet of his saints while the wicked are silent in darkness.'

Under all circumstances, the wishes of the spiritual pilgrim will veer towards this divine shelter; frequent will be the seasons of exhaustion and fatigue, when he will seek this refreshing shade; when he will say, I remember thee from the land of the Hermonites and from the hill Misar -this is a pelting storm- this is an oppressive heat-Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.’

Higher than I! Yes, blessed Redeemer, it is thy fulness, thy might, thy divine influence, which attract my feebleness to take shelter under thee. Thy righteousness displays a spotless purity-shines with a celestial brilliancy; so that I turn from the creature all around, and from myself, and flee for refuge where alone it can ever be found.

Higher than I! Divine Mediator, thou canst lay thine hand where I dare not approach, even on the very throne of the

Most High; undertake thou for me, and plead my cause!

Higher than I! yes, in yon bright vault of heaven He dwells, and makes perpetual day by His divine presence: there is no need of the sun where He so brilliantly shines; there no heat shall smite by day, nor any weariness, sickness, sin, or sorrow come: O, then, 'lead me to that rock which is higher than I.'

No. XI.

Your fathers, where are they? and the prophets, do they live for ever?

ZECHARIAH, chap. i, ver. 5.

ALTHOUGH this solemn appeal is ever soliciting the attention of mankind; assailing their ears by every passing bell, their eyes by every green hillock, and every white stone in the burial ground; accosting their personal feelings in every pain, and every symptom of decay; yet we see the multitude of travellers as busily occupied with their various pursuits as if such solemn and numerous mementos had never been presented to them; amply confirming the sentiment of the poet→

"All men think all men mortal, but themselves."

They turn and admire the monuments, reared by hands which have long since forgotten their cunning, and, like those whose memory they were designed to perpetuate, themselves hastening to decay :

monuments of those who are now in a state of being, respecting which in their day of life perhaps they took but little interest, and which of all concerns engrossed the least portion of their thoughts: for as

"That bourne, from whence no traveller returns,"

is concealed from mortal view, every expedient is resorted to, that may still more effectually suppress and stifle the obtruding subject, and remove the unwelcome thought far from the mind.

But, traveller, permit the interesting question to be repeated: Your fathers, where are they? Where is your immediate father? or his father? And who and what were their predecessors? Of what country? Of what rank? Of what character? You cannot tell, beyond the