n his countenance; such as silently acknowledges that he is going to plead efore the rulers of the world. Sedate, at the same time, and collected in imself, he seems conscious of superior eloquence, and imboldened by the ustice of his cause. His thoughtful aspect, and gracefully expanded arm, peak to the eye before the tongue has uttered a syllable.

You enter an alley, lined on either side with a verdant fan; and having o variety of objects to diversify the intermediate space, your view is conducted o a magnificent building at the end. As you walk along, contemplating the nasterly performance in architecture, an unexpected opening diverts your attention, and presents you with some striking imitation of virtuous or heroic life. Not the Macedonian madman, nor Sweden's royal knight-errant, or Cæsar, infamously renowned for his slaughtered millions-but the truly allant Czar: a drawn sword in his hand, and a commanding majestic ternness on his brow. The weapon is held in the most menacing posture; and many a spectator has been observed to start back, with apprehensions of fear. It is that gloriously severe attitude, in which the grateful citizens of Narva beheld him, and in which all posterity will admire him, when he turned upon his victorious but ungovernable troops, and threatened to drench the dagger in their hearts, if they did not immediately desist from rapine * and slaughter; immediately allow quarter to their vanquished focs.

Under a circular dome, supported by pillars of the Doric order, and in a pot where several walks centre, stands-not the Venus de Medicis, corrupting while it captivates the world-but a Spartan mother. Her habit decent and graceful; somewhat like the Juno Matrona of the Romans, as she is finely depictured in Mr. Spence's Polymetis. Her air stately and resolved; expressive of dignity, yet mingled with softness. She holds a shield; is in the act of delivering it to her son, a youth setting out for the army, and going to hazard his life in the defence of his country. She is supposed to add that spirited and magnanimous exhortation, which is engraven on the protuberance of the buckler,η ταν, η επι τας "Bring it back my son, as thy trophy; or be brought back upon it, as thy bier.”

I am particularly pleased, said Theron, with the contrivance of this last ornament. It is regulated by one of the most refined rules of art, Not to lavish away all the beauty at a single view, but to make a skilful reserve for some future occasion. The dome and the columns afford pleasure, when beheld at a considerable distance; the fine animated figure in the midst displays its graces on a nearer approach; by which means the attention is kept awake, and the entertainment continues new.

But what I principally admire, is the spirit or style of the decorations in general. They put me in mind of a very just remark, which Mr. Pope has somewhere made. It is, if I remember right, to this effect :-"A man not only shows his taste, but his virtue, in the choice of his ornaments. A proper piece of history, represented in painting on a rich man's walls (or exhibited in imagery amidst his gardens), is very often a better lesson than any he could teach by his conversation. In this sense, the stones may be

and

"As soon as the soldiers were masters of the town (Narva), they fell to plunder, gave themselves up to the most enormous barbarities. The Czar ran from place to place, to put a stop to the disorder and massacre. He was even obliged to kill with his own hand several Muscovites, who did not hearken to his orders."-VOLTAIRE'S Hist. Charles XII.

said to speak, when men cannot, or will not." All but the comparative or satirical part of the observation, I would apply to the prospect before us, and its worthy owner.

Asp. Philenor's gardens are, I think, more chaste and delicate in their ornaments than a certain collegiate church. In the latter place, we might reasonably expect the strictest adherence to purity, if we should not meet with the symbols of piety and incitements to religion. What then would be the reflections of a judicious observer, if, in such a solemn and venerable edifice, he should see a huge brawny fellow stuck up against the wall, with his posteriors half bare, his whole body more than half naked, and in an attitude none of the most decent? Excuse me, Theron. I confess myself ashamed even to rehearse the description. How then can the spectacle itself become the house of divine worship?

Ther. But perhaps this same brawny fellow may represent a Heathen demigod; one of the idols worshipped by antiquity; the tutelary deity of valour.

Asp. And will this justify the practice? Does not this add profaneness to immodesty? Are we Christians to thank Hercules for the valour of our warriors, and make our acknowledgments to Pallas for the conduct of our generals? Shall we Christians behold with admiration, or recognize as our benefactors, what the apostle has stigmatized under the character of "devils ?” 1 Cor. x. 20.

If he who overthrew the tables of the money-changers, had taken a walk in these famous cloisters, I am apt to suspect he would have paid no very agreeable compliment to this fine piece of statuary. "Take these things hence," would probably have been his command; and, "make not the precincts of your temple a chamber of Pagan imagery,” his rebuke, John ii. 16. Neither is it at all unlikely, that the image itself, notwithstanding its inimitable workmanship, might have shared the fate of its kinsman Dagon, -when the captive ark

Maim'd his brute image, head and hands lopp'd off

In his own temple, on the groundsell edge

When he fell flat, and shamed his worshippers.-MILTON, i. 458.

Ther. But how should the artist represent the great achievements and the shining qualities of his hero, if you will not allow him to make use of these significant emblems?

Asp. I question whether they are so very significant. The mirror seems to characterize a fop, rather than a soldier. It leads us to think of a soft Narcissus admiring himself, rather than a sagacious general planning the operations of the campaign. Besides, is sacred literature so destitute of proper emblems, that we must borrow the decorations of our churches, and the trophies of our conquerors, from the dreams of superstition or the delusions of idolatry? How just and expressive are those emblematical representations exhibited in Ezekiel's vision; where activity and speed are signified by hands in conjunction with wings; and the deep, the complicated, yet ever harmonious schemes of Providence, by "a wheel in the middle of a wheel?"

* Referring to the monument lately erected for Major-General Fleming, in WestminsterAbbey; where under the General's bust, are placed Hercules and Pallas. Hercules with his club and lion's skin, in the manner related above; Pallas, with a mirror and serpent at her side. The reader may see a picture and an explanation of this monument in the Gentleman's Magazine for August 1754.

With what propriety and force are the noblest endowments pictured in the revelations of St. John, and their grand machinery! Superior wisdom and benevolence of heart, are described by the face of a man; strength of mind and intrepidity of spirit, by the visage of a lion; calmness of temper and indefatigable application, by the features of an ox; a penetrating discernment and an expeditious habit of acting, by the form of a flying eagle, Rev. iv. 7.

These hieroglyphics are graceful, are pertinent, and such as every spectator will understand. Whereas the devices of our new monumental enconium are, I presume, to the unlearned, hardly intelligible; to the serious, little better than profane; and to every beholder, indelicate, if not immodest. Philenor, I imagine, would blush to admit them into his walks or avenues. And I am sorry to find them received into the most ancient*, most renowned, and most frequented church in the kingdom.

Talking in this manner, they come to a curious grove, formed on that uncommon plan proposed by Mr. Addison in one of his Spectators. It consisted wholly of evergreens. Firs, clad in verdant silver, pointed their resinous leaves, and shot aloft their towering cones. Laurels, arrayed in glossy green, spread their ample foliage, and threw abroad their rambling boughs. Baytrees were expanded into a fan, that no weather could tarnish; or rounded into a column, that knew not how to moulder. While the laurustinus ran out into a beautiful irregularity of shape, and compacted her reddening gems, in order to unfold her whitening bloom. In one place lay a dale, gently sinking, and coated with the chamomile's natural frieze; which never changes its colour, never loses its gloss. Near it, and scooped, you would imagine, from the same hollow, arose a mount, softly swelling, and shagged with furze; gay with perennial verdure, and generally decked with golden blossoms. Here you are led through a serpentine walk, and hedges of box; and find, perhaps, a solitary pyramid or a capacious urn, each composed of unfading yew. There you look through a straight alley, fenced on either side, and arched over head, with mantling philyra; and see, at the extremity, an obelisk sheathed in ivy, and ornamented with its sable clusters as with wreaths of living sculpture. Scattered up and down were several sorts of holly; some striped with white, some spotted with yellow, some preparing to brighten and beautify the scene with berries of glowing scarlet.

The heads of the trees, arising one above another in a gradual slope, from the diminutive mezereon to the lofty cypress; the several shadings of their green attire, greatly diversified and judiciously intermixed, afford, especially in the winter season, a most enlivened and lovely prospect. As the sunshine is, by the frequenters of this grove, usually more coveted than the shade, it is so disposed as to admit, in one part or another, every gleam of fine weather which exhilarates the winter.

Asp. There must be something unspeakably pleasing in a plantation, which appears lively and fruitful when all its neighbours of the woodland race are barren, bleak, or dead. But how much more cheering and delightful must it

* Some antiquarians trace back the origin of this church, even to the reign of Lucius; which is more than the space of 1500 years. Others suppose, that Sebert, King of the East Saxons, about the year of our Lord 605, built the first religious structure on this spot. All agree, that it was re-edified and enlarged by Edward the Confessor; and that the present stately and magnificent fabric was founded by Henry III.

be, when decrepit age or bodily infirmities have impaired the vigour and laid waste the gratifications of our youthful prime, to find a solid undecaying pleasure in the favour of God and the hope of glory! Now, indeed, the feathered tribes resort to the more flowing umbrage of the poplar and the ash; but, amidst December's cold, you shall observe them forsaking the leafless woods, and flocking to this friendly receptacle; hopping across the sunny walks, or sheltering themselves, in the wet and stormy day, under these trusty boughs. So the many thoughtless creatures, who turn their back upon religion amidst the soft and soothing caresses of prosperity, will want, extremely want, its sovereign supports under the sharp and distressing assaults of adversity, sickness, and death. This collection, it is true, may not equal the groves of annual verdure in floridity of dress; but it far exceeds them in the duration of its ornaments. Ere long, yonder showy branches will be stript of their holiday clothes; whereas, these will retain their honours, when those are all rags or nakedness. Thus it will be with every refuge for our poor, imperfect, sinful souls; excepting only the righteousness of our Lord Jesus Christ. Everything else "will fade as a leaf,” Isa. lxiv. 6. This, my Theron, and this alone, is an evergreen; always free for our acceptance, and always effectual to save.

Ther. An evergreen it is. But, like the ruddy and inviting fruits which hang on the uppermost boughs of those lofty trees in the orchard, it seems to be quite out of my reach.

Asp. Are you sensible that you need the immaculate and perfect righteousness of our Saviour?

Ther. Was Jonah sensible how much he needed the cooling shelter of his gourd, when the sun smote fiercely upon his temples, and all the fervours of the fiery east were glowing around him? So is your Theron sensible, that without a far better righteousness than his own, he must inevitably be condemned by the sentence of the law, and cannot possibly stand before the high and holy God. Asp. Remember then what our Lord says to such persons: "Come unto me, all ус that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest," Matth. xi. 28. How gracious is the invitation! Come unto me, the Father of compassions, and the Giver of every good gift. How extensive as well as gracious! All that are "weary" (KoTOTES), toiling in a fruitless pursuit of happiness, and spending your labour for that which satisfieth not. All that are "heavy laden" (Hepopriμevo), oppressed with the servitude of sin, or bowed down under a load of misery. These, all these, are called; and you, my friend, in the number. They have not a ticket, a bond, or some inferior pledge, to ascertain their success; but they have a promise from faithfulness and truth itself. "I will give you rest," says the Strength of Israel; whose will is fate, and his word the basis of the universe. And if Christ will give you rest, he will wash you in that blood which atones, and invest you with that righteousness which justifies; since nothing short of these mercies can afford any satisfaction to the guilty conscience, or true satisfaction to the restless soul. Permit me to ask further, Do you earnestly desire this righteousness?

Ther. Will yonder hirelings, when fatigued with the heat and burden of a long, laborious, sultry day, desire the shades of the evening, and the repose of the night? I can truly, on this occasion, adopt the words of the pro

and

The very mention of this spot

phet: "The desire of my soul is to thy name," blessed Jesus, to the remembrance" of thy righteousness. less righteousness is music to my ears. Every fresh, though distant discovery of it, gleams pleasure upon my mind. And that would be a welcome day, a day greatly to be distinguished, which should bring it near to my view, and home to my soul.

Asp. Say not then, my dear friend, that Christ, and the blessings of his purchase, are beyond your reach. They are now, even now, at your door. You need not argue anxiously and despondingly, "Who shall ascend into heaven, to bring down Christ from above? or who shall descend into the deep, to bring up Christ from beneath?" Rom. x. 6, 7. There is no such impossibility, no such difficulty in the thing. Christ and his righteousness, Christ and his salvation, are brought nigh in the word of promisc. And, "if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus," as dying on the cross for thy redemption; "if thou shalt believe in thy heart, that God hath raised him from the dead" for thy justification, "thou shalt be saved," Rom. x. 9. In so doing, thou shalt receive remission of sin, and power to withstand its temptations.

Have you never, in your travels, been overtaken by the dark and tempestuous night? When, chilled with the cold, and almost drowned in the rain, you arrived at the house of some valued friend, was you not willing to gain admittance?

Ther. Willing! I was desirous, I was almost impatient; I thought every moment an hour till the hospitable door opened-till I exchanged the dismal gloom and the driving storm, for the cheerful light and the amiable company within.

you.

Asp. The adored Emmanuel professes himself equally willing to come unto "Behold!" says the Saviour of the world, "I stand at the door, and knock. If any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in unto him, and will sup with him, and he with me," Rev. iii. 20. Like one exposed to all the inclemencies of the air, whose "head is filled with dew, and his locks with the drops of the night," Cant. v. 2, he is not only willing but desirous to enter. "He stands at the door," with great long-suffering and perseverance, till all obstacles are removed, or rather till that one grand obstacle is taken out of the way, unbelief. "He knocks," by the preaching of his word, and the promise of his gospel, like one who solicits admission, and will take no denial. Hear then his soliciting voice, and "he will with you;" will make his abode with you, will manifest his glories in you, and communicate his grace to you. Believe his promising word, and "you shall sup with him:" this will be refreshing to your distressed soul, as the most sumptuous banquet to the famished stomach and craving appetite. Ther. I cannot open my heart.

sup

Asp. Christ has the key of David. "He openeth, and none can shut; he shutteth, and none can open," Rev. iii. 7. He is able to make all grace, not only to exist in you, but abound towards you, 2 Cor. ix. 8; and what is still more encouraging, he is professedly "the author and finisher of our faith," Heb. xii. 2. Since he has claimed this character to himself, since he has undertaken to execute this office, why should we harbour the least distrust? Will he not fulfil his own office, and act agrecably to his own character? Be not, my dear Theron, be not faithless, but believing.