in Nature, the human countenance, when its native energy is exerted with undaunted fortitude, is the most commanding; and is not only capable of silencing the reproaches of malignity and violence, but of extorting a reluctant veneration from its very enemies, and checking the ferocity of the most savage of the animal species. But it is as the index of the mind that the countenance exerts its chief influence, and assumes its true dignity. It is as it displays the grand outlines of our mental operations, and unfolds the secrets of the soul, that its principal interest is excited; for it is here that the morose and gentle-the benevolent and selfish-the deceitful and ingenuousthe dignified and grovelling affections, discover their ruling influence. Possessing a double nature, man is chained to the earth as an animal-connected with heaven as a spirit. He is the only being that reaches not his destiny here-accomplishes not his final existence below. In attempting to examine his structure, and analyze his functions, new wonders break upon us at every step, and we soon reach the ne plus ultra of our researches: yet impenetrable as this barrier may seem, it is not so lofty but some glimpses of light break from beyond, which show that man is only designed to bud here, but to blossom and ripen in a future scene-another and a purer state of existence. We find in him much to astonish us-much to admire -and something almost to adore. He is, in fact, a compound of mixed characters and properties, prompted to action by self-love, regulated by reason, and tempered by benevolence. We see him combining qualities and attributes apparentlyincongruous and incompatible-weakness with strength-light with darkness-wisdom with folly-and paucity with plenitude. Here he often displays elevation of thought and dignity of sentiment, with imbecility of conduct-sometimes soaring above this grosser atmosphere, basking in heaven's sunshine, and drinking its descending dews; at others not merely touch ing the earth as a resting-place, but dwelling on it as a home. At one moment grovelling amidst the fogs and vapours of this lower world, ever fitted to delude and mislead-at another presuming into the very councils of the Deity, and writing laws for the universe, yet ignorant of the very means by which he moves his pen, and unconscious of the smallest movement of his frame. A Beam ethereal! sullied and absorpt, Though sullied and dishonoured, still divine, Human excellence is inseparable from a high degree of moral elevation. The man of superior talents and intellectual attainments alone may aspire to the epithet of great, but to those of wise and dignified he can urge no claim: they belong exclusively to him who draws his morality from the pure fountain of divine inspiration, which enlightens while it purifies, and elevates as it refines. The mind of such a man ever delights to contemplate the grandest objects, his hope anticipates the sublimest joys, and his conduct is regulated by the noblest principles; till the influence of these ultimately assimilates his character to the source from which they were drawn, and stamps it with a dignified consistency. Ever active in the ways of truth and virtue, he never shrinks from his principles, but always maintains them with firmness resisting the allurements of temptation and the smiles of interest, he steadily urges on in the career of duty, daily increasing in lustre and worth, like the Sun advancing to his meridian splendour. Upon these principles of morality, may all our youthful readers establish the basis of their self-improvement! Then will they be able to proceed with courage and perseverance in the line of duty, unawed by danger, unfettered by custom, unbiassed by example. Consciousness of moral rectitude will be a perennial spring of the noblest satisfaction, which will survive the desolations of time, and accompany them to that throne of perfect equity, where the Supreme Judge of the human character has said, 'Them that honour me, I will honour, but they that despise me shall be lightly esteemed.' Then will it be seen that the morality of the Gospel alone will stand in that trying hour, and its possessors, supported by the arms of mercy, shall triumph amidst a world in flames. In conclusion, then, the final appeal must be to Him from whom the whole emanates-to the last tribunal where all destinies will be fixed, and the sentence will be irrevocable. Time is already giving warning of this hour, and all things are hastening to this awful consummation. The close of temporal engagements naturally directs our reflections to the termination of all our personal and individual activity -to the period which death shall soon put to all our labours. From these considerations, we should gather fresh motives to perseverance in the path of duty, and be excited to greater watchfulness against separating moral obligation from religious principle; while with trembling anxiety, blended with humble confidence, we wait the restitution of all things, to be ushered in by the shout of the Archangel, and the trump of GOD. With the following beautiful poem we shall conclude these cursory observations on the most important subject that can occupy the mind of Mana subject that will not cease to interest till the vision of the poem shall be fully realized, and the Sun himself shall set to rise no more. The LAST MAN. [By Thomas Campbell, Esq.] 'All worldly shapes shall melt in gloom, Before this mortal shall assume Its immortality! k I saw a vision in my sleep, I saw the last of human mould The Sun's eye had a sickly glare, Earth's cities had no sound nor tread ; That shook the sere leaves from the wood, Saying 'We are twins in death, proud Sun, Thy face is cold, thy race is run, 'Tis mercy bids thee go; For thou ten thousand thousand years That shall no longer flow. 'What though beneath thee man put forth His pomp, his pride, his skill; And arts that made fire, flood, and earth, The vassals of his will, Yet mourn I not thy parted sway, Thou dim discrowned King of Day; For all those trophied arts And triumphs that beneath thee sprang, 'Go, let Oblivion's curtain fall Upon the stage of men, Nor with thy rising beams recal Life's tragedy again. Its fictious pageants bring not back, Of pain, anew to writhe, Stretched in Disease's shapes abhorred, Or mown in battle by the sword, Like grass beneath the scythe. Ev'n I am weary in yon skies To watch thy fading fire :Test of all sunless agonies, Behold not me expire. My lips that speak thy dirge of death, Th' eclipse of nature spreads my pall- Go, Sun, while mercy holds me up To drink this last and bitter cup Of grief, that man shall taste- Or shake his trust in GoD!' |