SHOWERS IN SPRING.

THE north-east spends his rage; he now shut up Within his iron cave, th' effusive south

Warms the wide air, and o'er the void of Heaven
Breathes the big clouds with vernal showers distent.
At first a dusky wreath they seem to rise,
Scarce staining either; but by swift degrees,
In heaps on heaps, the doubling vapour sails
Along the loaded sky, and mingling deep,
Sits on th' horizon round a settled gloom:
Not such as wintry-storms on mortals shed,
Oppressing life: but lovely, gentle, kind,
And full of every hope and every joy,

The wish of Nature. Gradual sinks the breeze
Into a perfect calm; that not a breath

Is heard to quiver through the closing woods,
Or rustling turn the many twinkling leaves
Of aspin tall. Th' uncurling floods, diffus'd
In glassy breadth, seem through delusive lapse
Forgetful of their course. "Tis silence all,
And pleasing expectation. Herds and flocks
Drop the dry-sprig, and, mute-imploring, eye
The falling verdure. Hush'd in short suspense,
The plumy people streak their wings with oil,
To throw the lucid moisture trickling off:
And wait th' approaching sign to strike, at once,
Into the general choir. Even mountains, vales,
And forests, seem impatient to demand
The promis'd sweetness. Man superior walks
Amid the glad creation, musing praise,
And looking lively gratitude. At last,
The clouds consign their treasures to the fields;
And, softly shaking on the dimpled pool
Prelusive drops, let their moisture flow,
In large effusion, o'er the freshen'd world.
The stealing shower is scarce to patter heard,
By such as wander through the forest walks,
Beneath the' umbrageous multitude of leaves.
But who can hold the shade, while Heaven descends
In universal bounty, shedding herbs,

And fruits, and flowers, on Nature's ample lap?

Swift Fancy fir'd anticipates their growth;
And, while the milky nutriment distils,
Beholds the kindling country colour round.

Thus all day long the full-distended clouds
Indulge their genial stores, and well shower'd earth
Is deep enrich'd with vegetable life;

Till, in the western sky, the downward sun
Looks out, effulgent, from amid the flush
Of broken clouds, gay-shifting to his beam.
The rapid radiance instantaneous strikes

Th' illumin'd mountain; through the forest streams,
Shakes on the floods, and in a yellow mist,
Far smoking o'er the interminable plain,
In twinkling myriads lights the dewy gems.
Moist, bright, and green, the landscape laughs around.
Full swell the woods; their every music wakes,
Mix'd in wild concert with the warbling brooks
Increas'd, the distant bleatings of the hills,
And hollow lows responsive from the vales,
Whence, blending all, the sweeten'd zephyr springs.
Meantime, refracted from yon eastern cloud,
Bestriding earth, the grand etherial bow
Shoots up immense; and every hue unfolds,
In fair proportion running from the red,
To where the violet fades in the sky.
Here, awful Newton, the dissolving clouds
Form, fronting on the sun, thy showery prism;
And to the sage-instructed eye unfold

The various twine of light, by thee disclos'd
From the white mingling maze.

Not so the boy;

He wondering views the bright enchantment bend,

Delightful, o'er the radiant fields, and runs

To catch the falling glory; but, amaz'd,
Beholds th' amusive arch before him fly,
Then vanish quite away.

RELIGION,

Considered as the accomplishment of Man's education.

If all the moral faculties of man aspire to Religion, Religion, by satisfying their desires, in her turn, gives them the

most favorable culture. The religious sentiment, placed by Providence in the heart, awaits its development in most men from the simple and sublime idea of a Supreme Benefactor. This sentiment is unfolded as naturally as filial affection in the heart of an infant who knows its parent. Constantly strengthened and enlightened by experience and reflection, it germinates in the bosom of conscience, as in its native soil; explaining, enriching, bringing to perfection every moral impulse in man. Without it, the intelligent creature is but an abortion, a fruit detached from the universal tree of creation before it had attained its maturity.

She

In the origin of civilization, Religion is seen as the first instructor of human society. She is the mother of arts, of sciences, of public morals, and even of laws. As civilization advances, she affords clearer light; applying herself to morals, and to happiness, she becomes, in relation to man, more benificent, more grand, and more pure. So she begins with individuals, impressing the heart of the young child with the first knowledge of the just and good; awakening the sentiment of duty; and, after having accompanied him in all the trials of life, she brings him new strength and opens new perspectives, when his organs become weakened, and terrestrial things vanish before him. Never does she appear more touching or more venerable than when she enlightens with her divine rays the morning and evening of existence. is the Alpha and Omega of our destiny: she is the wisdom of infancy, and the youth of old age. If, as we have seen, the road traveled by us here below, is but a great and continual preparation, we may remark, that religion embraces its whole course, contributing to our education, and possessing all the conditions which are necessary to render this education as complete and fruitful as possible. Very different from that given to the intellect, this education is addressed to the most intimate faculties of the soul; nourishing and developing them at the same time that it regulates their exercise; cultivating them together, and in harmonious accord; directing them incessantly to a practical application; addressing their vital principle, to give them the highest degree of purity and energy. The religious sentiment, the sentiment which is expressed by adoration, includes at once love, respect, submission, gratitude, and confidence: it is a worship rendered to power, wisdom, infinite goodness, and infinite justice: there is, then, not a moral sentiment which it does

not embrace, at the same time strengthening its principle and extending its sphere. While it communicates to the soul a singular elevation, it also constantly recalls it to simplicity and modesty. It restores while it softens; moderates while it animates; associates self-distrust with the most heroíc courage; and, as it at once offers to the creature, both the model of that ideal perfection towards which it directs the noble affections of the heart, and the perspective of an unbounded futurity as a better existence, it constantly excites him to progressive improvement; at the same time powerfully aiding these efforts by the communion it establishes between the soul and its eternal Creator.

It is by loving that we learn to love: it is by loving what is truly worthy of being loved, that we comprehend this great sentiment. Love, in the bosom of religion, has recognized its essence and original source; it flows from it constantly, living, and animated with immortal youth; it is purified in celestial fire, and spreads over the earth with abundant fulness, enriching and enlightening all. If the relations of a moment, founded on a community of interests so limited, suffice to create lively affections, what must be the effect of those eternal bonds, which embrace all that is most profound and most real in our existence? In all beings, who are united to us by society or by nature, man, instructed by religion, recognises a sacred deposit, confided to him by perfect and infinite love; the connection of a grand fraternity is discovered; humanity becomes a family bond, a community of the future; there is nothing unknown, there is no stranger for him who reads, on the forehead of his brother, the character imprinted by the hand of God himself. Piety, from one extremity of the earth to the other, becomes the holy and magnificent sympathy of hearts. And what name shall we give to the affections-nature's most precious gift-if we despoil them of the religious sentiment, which is their soul? Will they be a charm or a poison? Shall we be satisfied or deceived by them? Without this sentiment, what would remain to be shared with those we love? In what thoughts should we understand one another? What poverty would there be in our language; with what trembling would our eyes meet! What despair on the farewell day, on which we should lose each other! Should we really belong to each other here below? Our souls would but touch, in passing; they could not mingle together. Love and happiness, the

apparent ends of our destiny, would contradict each other. The selfish man would alone be prudent. Let selfishness and irreligion triumph together: snows, darkness, and annihilation are their empire. But deprived of religion, what is man? What does he find in himself to love, to cherish, to protect? What a melancholy sterility remains even in the eyes of selfishness! Ah! give this feeble, restless creature religion; he can then love himself justly and really, and taste some sweetness, and find some fruit in this solitary affection: the instinct which leads him to self, will be legitimate and satisfactory: separated from all created things, seeing all disappear from vision, all will still remain to him; the Infinite will remain, the object of his worship, the end of his hopes.

The universal attraction of insensible matter completely attains its end; preserving the universal harmony of visible nature. Will the noble attraction of hearts be deceived in its object! Will they gravitate towards each other to be forever repulsed? Can there be a principle of perpetual and general discord in the most beautiful region of the universe?

Religion excites to sacrifice; and sacrifice has been the general and fundamental condition of religious worship, in all times and places. Without taking pains to seek the explanation of this historical phenomenon, is it not because love, even unconsciously to itself, is the vital principle of religion? We love but to bestow: the stronger our affection, the more it tends to self-sacrifice: thus man has never found any thing sufficiently precious for a holocaust. This exer

cise of immolation is then the education of generosity; but what will it cost to give ourselves for our fellow-men, when we feel that in this we devote ourselves to God! This is the real holocaust which piety seeks, and goodness points out.

SUBJECT CONCLUDED.

RELIGION is a science, simple in its elements, but immense in its applications. Is not the beautiful definition of Bacon eminently applicable to it? for where is there a more 'grand interpretation of nature?" And that portion of nature, best interpreted by it, is precisely that which touches us the most nearly, is the most essential to our happiness, the most necessary to the exercise of our activity-that which alone comes home to us, and is our very destiny. But it tells us more of