To a large watering-place upon the coast,
Where Fashion yearly sent her restless host.
One day a carriage, journeying thither, met
Close to the town a frightful overset.

A well-dressed man who sat alone within
Was wounded much, and to the village inn
Was brought, and there in great distress and pain
Now lay, and all assistance seemed in vain.
The faculty at last gave up the case,

And now the priest was summoned in their place.
Edmund approached, upon the stranger looked,-
It was his brother James.-But he rebuked
His strong emotions, and his face withdrew.
'Leave,' said the man, 'the chamber to us two.'
They went.Sir,' he continued, 'I have learned
Much of thy worth and goodness, and have yearned
To lay my case before thee, and receive
What comfort thou a dying man canst give.
I feel it is no season to dissemble,
When in a few hours longer I must tremble
At God's dread bar, and all the truth display
In the broad light of everlasting day.

These, sir, are things I've tried to disbelieve,
But am constrained to shudder and receive:
The frail supports such reasonings can supply
May serve whereon to live, but not to die.

I want, I feel it, now a surer stay;

And haply, sir, thy long experience may
Suggest such comfort; only with me deal

In candour, nor compose where thou shouldst heal.
Thou seest a wretch before thee who has erred
Deeply and grossly: if thou hast a word

Of peace for such, say on; I need not add
How sounds like these a dying ear will glad.'

Edmund a moment paused. His soul was moved
Within him; but the mood he soon reproved,
And calm replied, ''Tis well to know our guilt:
A sickness to be healed must first be felt.
None are exempt from sin; but grace is sent
To all that look to Jesus and repent.'

'But mine, sir-mine is a peculiar case,
Beyond the reach of ordinary grace.

No venial errors, common to mankind,

Have stained my life, and now oppress my mind.
But guilt so black, that tears of blood might fail
To rase it. Memory sickens, Hope turns pale
To look at it. And here upon the verge

Of that dark ocean, whose next rising surge
May sweep me in, I tremble now, nor find
Whereon to rest before me or behind.

If, then, thou ownest aught of stronger power
To comfort such a wretch, at such an hour,
O speak it !'

'Sir, this language makes me bold,'

Said Edmund, and were all more plainly told,
Some mitigating feature might arrest
Another's eye; the case itself suggest
Its own peculiar comfort: but be sure,
Whate'er thy guilt, it is not past a cure.
The Saviour died that none might feel despair
Who turn to Him with penitence and prayer.'

Suppose, then, sir, the blackest and the worst
Of all that's mean, base, devilish, and accurst.
Suppose the use of every trick and art
That mars and desecrates the human heart;
A show of candour o'er a knot of wiles,
A soul of hell beneath a face of smiles,
Worth undermined, and confidence betrayed,
And love and truth with wrong and hate repaid.
Suppose one mammon project long pursued,
And sealed at last with perfidy and blood-
Suppose the victim of all this to be

A brother.-O! the kindest ! best !-and he
Duped, beggared, outlawed, murdered-all by me !—
Is there still hope?'

'Thy guilt indeed is great; But God forbids me to set bounds or date

To His redeeming mercy. So the thief
Who on the cross found pardon and relief !
To the same Saviour be thy prayer up sent,
For sure thy language says thou dost relent.'
'Relent! O yes! If days and nights of tears;
If sorrow eating on my joyless years;

If this false head, all prematurely grey;

If pangs that cannot rest, and dare not pray;
If Heaven grown black above, and earth beneath
Become one gloomy vault, one waste of death;
If taunt and scorn descried in every face,

And hunting me forlorn from place to place;
If to seem less among my fellow-men
Than the poor scribble of some idle pen;
If envy of the meanest thing that crawls,

The idiot's leer, the maniac's chains and walls;
If death desired, yet dreaded——'

'Hold, O, hold!

Enough, enough to mortal ear is told.

Turn to thy God. With Him for mercy plead :
All is not lost while He can hear and heed.

My heart bleeds for thee. Lift with me thy prayer.
Why shouldst thou yield to Satan and despair ?'

I dare not look on high,

'I cannot pray.
My brother's form is there to meet my eye.
His voice is there my conscious plea to drown.
Yes! his least glance will hurl me headlong down
From Heaven, will be enough my soul to scare
Down to its place of judgment and despair.
See where he stands ! my murdered brother! see,
He turns his still reproachful eyes on me!'

'O! calm this mood! thy wandering thoughts recall!
Thy brother ? O! he pities, pardons all !
Has he not sins himself to be forgiven?
How could he look up to his God in Heaven,
And ask the mercy which himself denied?
Has he not seen thee? has he not descried
Thy deep remorse, thy bitterness of soul?
He has, he has. He knows, forgives the whole.
He was not wont to own a mood like this:
And anger cannot dwell where Jesus is.'

This face is not so changed but thou mayst see

A brother's likeness in it.-Yes, I live !

Live to console, to cherish, to forgive !'

There have been looks of power; and souls have shook
And shrunk and quailed before one awful look.
The eye of Marius struck the slave to stone,
Who came to slay him fettered and alone.
A look from Christ pierced Peter like a sword
In Pilate's hall, when he denied his Lord.

The hosts of Pharaoh in the deep were awed

And checked, and scattered by one look from God. As strong, as thrilling, though with love they gushed, The looks of Edmund on his brother rushed.

He started up as lightly from the bed

As if his pain and weakness all were fled ;

Held back and glared awhile in Edmund's face,
Then dropped exhausted in his spread embrace.

'He lives! thank God ! thank God !' he faintly cried, Then back upon the pillow sank, and died.

THE SPIRIT OF THE PSALMS

IN the preface Mr. Lyte said that 'poetry and music are never better employed than when they unite in the celebration of the praises of God.' 'Psalms and hymns and spiritual songs have accordingly constituted a prominent part of the public worship of the Church in all ages. The Israelites, when delivered from their Egyptian pursuers, expressed in this way their gratitude and joy. The daily services of the Temple at Jerusalem were replete with vocal and instrumental music. Our Lord closed the celebration of His last supper with a hymn. The Apostles frequently inculcated this devotional exercise on their converts; and it was while Paul and Silas were practising it in prison that God came down to cheer and deliver them. The early Christians, as we are informed by a pagan writer, were accustomed to sing in their assemblies 'a hymn to Christ as to God,' and at the great Protestant revival of Christianity the Psalms of David, says Bishop Burnet, translated into metre, were much sung by all who loved the Reformation; and it was a sign by which men's affections to that work were measured, whether they used to sing these or not.'

His

The inspired compositions of the 'sweet singer of Israel' have, indeed, been the great fount from which suitable matter for this part of Divine worship has always been drawn. lyre is one of many strings, tuned to the expression of every variety of devotional feeling. He speaks of the glories of God in strains which mere human powers could never have reached, and tracks religious experience through its various moods in tones which find a response in every Christian heart. exquisite productions have accordingly formed the grand staple of the devotions of God's servants; and their universal applicability shows how truly the Church is one in spirit in all ages, and how harmoniously its members may be expected to mingle hearts and voices around the throne above.

These

To transfer these songs of Zion into other tongues and to adapt them to public worship has been a favourite object with Christian poets, and some of the greatest names in the literature of our own country stand connected with efforts of this

kind. The spirit, however, of these beautiful compositions has, it is allowed, but too generally evaporated in the process of transfusion; and notwithstanding some happy occasional specimens, a good metrical translation of the Psalms is still a desideratum in our language.

The author of this little volume has not had the temerity to hope that he could supply this deficiency. The failure of so many with talents far superior to his own would sufficiently deter him from such an enterprise. instead, therefore, of attempting a new version of the Psalms he has contented himself with endeavouring to condense the leading sentiments of each into a few verses for congregational singing. The modern practice of using only three or four verses at a time would render the great majority of the Psalms, if literally translated, unfit, on the score of length, for public worship; and a few ill-connected verses detached from the rest can scarcely give a more just view of the harmonious whole than a few bricks can of the building of which they may have formed a part. The author has, therefore, simply endeavoured to give the spirit of each Psalm in such a compass as the public taste would tolerate, and to furnish, sometimes, when the length of the original would admit of it, an almost literal translation, sometimes a kind of spiritual paraphrase, and at others even a brief commentary on the whole Psalm. He feels, in truth, that, in order to render the Psalms fully applicable to a Christian audience, considerable liberties must be allowed in the way of adaptation. They ought, he thinks, to be made to express all that David himself would have expressed, had he lived under the superior light which we enjoy, and beheld, not the mere twilight of the yet unrisen Sun of Righteousness, but, like ourselves, the splendour of HIS meridian day. What, therefore, he darkly intimates respecting Christ and His Gospel (and the Psalms are full of such intimations), the author has, in many instances, endeavoured to unfold and expand; and, adapting the whole in some degree to present times, usages, and circumstances, he has sought to preserve the spirit of the originals, while he has somewhat altered the letter.

To these compositions of his own he has added the best and most popular passages of the ordinary New Version used by the Church of England. Many of these possess in themselves considerable beauty and fitness; and, sanctioned as they are by authority, and familiarized by custom, he doubts not that they will prove an acceptable accompaniment. He has freely altered the words where he thought he could improve them. In many cases the language is so much changed that the original may be hardly discernible.

How far his little work may serve its purpose and satisfy its readers, time must determine. The author must candidly