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nething like the burst from death to life;
m the grave's cerements to the robes of

eaven;

1 sin's dominion, and from passion's strife,
the pure freedom of a soul forgiven;
ere all the bonds of death and hell are riven,
nd mortal puts on immortality;

here mercy's hand hath turned the golden key,
id mercy's voice hath said, 'Rejoice, hy soul is
free.""

will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee: for I am the Lord thy God, the Holy One of Israel, thy Saviour," Isa. xliii. 2, 3-without finding and feeling it to be sweet and soothing? In such a season the consolation comes, "not as the word of men, but as it is in truth, the word of God," 1 Thess. ii. 13.

Such are some of the sweet and soothing ingredients in the cup of our existence; but sweeter, perhaps, and more soothing and encouraging than all, is the joyous moment when the saddened soul of a Christian man, suddenly enfranchised from doubts and darkness and the fear of death, temporal and eternal, is enabled by faith fully to believe and exult in that glorious declaration of his Redeemer, "I am the resurrection and the life; he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die," John xi. 25, 26. Thus set at liberty, the newly awakened soul springs upwards in a path the eagle has not known, full of light, and life, and immortality.

“ ”Tis something like the burst from death to life; From the grave's cerements to the robes of heaven;

From sin's dominion, and from passion's strife,

To the pure freedom of a soul forgiven; Where all the bonds of death and hell are riven, And mortal puts on immortality;

Where mercy's hand hath turned the golden key, And mercy's voice hath said, 'Rejoice, hy soul is free.""

BONNY BELLEFIELD.

BONNY Bellefield, Bonny Bellefield,
I have not forgot the hour,
When I gazed upon the fairy forms
That flitted round thy bower.
Thy shrubbery seat, thy pendent swing,
Thy lawn and chestnut tree,

And everything that met my eye
Imparted joy to me.

Bonny Bellefield, Bonny Bellefield,

Thy fresh and balmy air

Has gently fann'd my burning brow,
Thy kindness soothed my care.
What time I flung thee my farewell,
I heard the midnight blast,

And threw a troubled glance around :
Perhaps it was the last.

Bonny Bellefield, Bonny Bellefield,
There is brightness on thy brow;
Thou tellest me of former friends,
But they are strangers now.
Enough, enough, I hurry on,
Though lone and lorn I be,
Bonny Bellefield, Bonny Bellefield,
I will yet remember thee.

MOODY MINDS AND SUNNY SPIRITS.

THERE are moody-minded Christians, naturally and habitually desponding. Bodily afflictions and worldly trials bow them down. Though true disciples of Christ, they are under the bondage of darkness and fear. With them joy is only an occasional visitor, sorrow a constant companion. The blue heavens and the beauties of creation neither charm their senses, nor soften their souls. The world is regarded by them too literally as a "waste-howling wilderness," and mankind as moths fluttering round a lighted taper, or as thoughtless beings sporting on the edge of a fearful precipice. They seem to think that man's mission is to mourn over his transgressions, to ponder on the judgments of the Lord, and to alarm their fellow sinners of the wrath that is to come. They too frequently pass by what is encouraging in God's holy word, and pore and ponder over the darker dispensations of the Almighty. Many are the men of this description, and such a man was Amos Dow.

There are sunny-spirited followers of the

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