ed forth without restraint, and the cry, which dull- | amends for the smallest deviations from prudence of If I look on my former days, I see abundant consider." ness had always secretly disseminated against the abberrators of genius, was avowed as the dictate of sense and truth. Johnson is a proof, among a thousand glaring proofs, how little the wisest men "know themselves;" and how often they pride themselves on points in which they are strikingly deficient. His great boast seems to have been his attention to "That which before us lies in daily life." Yet did ever any man more offend the proprieties of daily life than Johnson? His unhappy and neglected person, his uncouth dress, his rude manners, and his irregular habits, required the full eminence of his fame, and force of his talents, to counterbalence his offensiveness. Yet probably he would have exclaimed "Non tali auxilio, non detensoribus istis!" He seems to have thought that he himself required no such set-offs. And, if we judge him by the rules by which he judged others, such set-offs ought not to have availed. But I trust that I shall never judge by rules so harsh, and, in my opinion, so unwise. I regret the depravity of Johnson's taste, and I lament that excess of envy and pride, the unconquerable disease of his disposition, which, in spite of all his efforts, too frequently overpowered his reason. But I venerate his vast abilities, the strong and original operrations of his mind, his force of ratiocination, and his luminous and impressive language. i venerate also the mingled goodness of his heart, his melting charity, his exalted principles, his enlarged moral notions, and the many sublime virtues of his mixed and unhappy life. But this is not all: according to the sentiments I have expressed, I necessarily go even farther. To me it appears that some of his most offensive eccentricities were strongly connected with his most prominent excellencies. To the constant abstraction of his mind, to the perpetual operation of thinking, we must surely attribute much of the neglect of his person, much of his inattention to polished manners and the etiquette of the world, and much of his irregular mode of life. But to this also is certainly attributable the clearness and arrangement of his ideas, the readiness of his thoughts upon every subject that was presented to him, and the perspicuity and happiness of his style. Let us hear no more reflections, then, on the "morbid" sensibility of the votaries of fancy. He whose feelings are not acute, sometimes even to disease, can never touch the true chords of the lyre. To be in constant terror of exceeding the cold bounds of propriety, to be perpetually on the watch against any transient extravagance of mind, is not to be a poet. It is not true that eccentricity alone does not constitute genius; and he who is known only by his foibles, unaccompanied by its advantages, deserves little mercy. And little can he expect to meet with it, if he recollects that, in the censorious eye of the world, even the happiest attainments of mental excellence, wili make but little conduct. That chilling philosophy which demands the reconcilement of qualities nearly incompatible, has always appeared to me far from true wisdom. We may lament, but we should attempt to soothe and treat leniently, the little ebullitions of that fire, which at other times is exerted to enlighten and charm us. We should pity rather than despise the pangs that springs from that thorn, which is too often at the breast of those who delight us by their songs. In thus venturing opinions so uncongenial with those of the great as well as little vulgar, I am aware of the extent to which I expose myself. The selfish worldling, the interested parent, the struggler in the paths of ordinary ambition, the stupid, the cold hearted, the sensual, all will exclaim, " If such be the effects of poetry, heaven defend me and all my connections from being poets!" Poor things! they need not fear; poets, they may rest assured, are not made out of such materials! STANZAS. Oh! steal not thou my faith away, Yet if, as holy men have said, But oh! if all that nerves us here, Yet hush! thou troubled one! be still; B. ΑΝΟΝ. JUDGMENT. "And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God: and the books were opened: and another book was opened, which is the book of life: and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works. And the sea gave up the dead which were in it; and death and hell delivered up the dead which were in them: and they were judged every man according to their works." Rev. xx. 12, 13. Various portions of Scripture assure us of a day of account; of a day in which God will "judge the world in righteousness, by that man whom he hath ordained; whereof he hath given assurance unto all men, in that he hath raised him from the dead." Acts xvii. 31. Let me not meditate on the day of judgment to propose questions which no ingenuity can solve, but to strengthen my faith, and to urge me to live more and more in the agreement with the gospel. The day of judgment is the day of universal assembly; of examination; of discovery; of final decision; of everlasting separation. To what serious and awful considerations am I led by each of the expressions which I have here used! Alas! comparatively few seem properly to meditate on this eventful day. How does the rich man use his wealth; the great man his influence; and the scholar his learning? How do men in general use their time and talents in their several stations? Do not most men live as if there were no day of account; as if they might live with impunity according to their own will? But do not serious Christians remember the day of judgment as they ought? They know that the Lord Jesus will come on the throne of His glory, that all men will be assembled before Him, and that he will give to every man according to what he has done in the body. With this knowledge and admission, do they duly remember that emphatical question ? "What manner of persons ought ye to be in all holy conversation and godliness, looking for and hasting unto the coming of the day of God?" We speak of the day of judgment; and yet we live too much as if we would never be judged. Let me bring the subject home to my own soul. "Every man shall give account of himself to God." I shall see that solemn day; I shall behold the Judge; I shall give an account of myself to Him ; I shall stand on his right hand, or on his left; I shall hear the summons to glory, or the sentence to banishment and woe. Surely I ought to think often of these things, and to allow them to sink into my heart, and to influence my conduct and conversation in the world. Can I possibly employ my time and talents vainly and foolishly, when I remember the day of account? My inquiry, in the anticipation of that day, always ought to be, What does the gospel require me to be and to do? Am I acting in such a manner as to be approved at last? cause of repentance. Tell me not of my virtues, or of my good actions. My sins, imperfections, omissions, and unprofitableness, are ever before me. Where is my refuge? Where is my hope? If thou, Lord, shouldest mark iniquities, O Lord, who shall stand? But there is forgiveness with thee, that thou mayest be feared." I look on the present, and then forward to the future. Thou knowest, O Lord, my weakness and corruption. In vain, while thinking on the solemnities of the last day, do I make resolves, uniess Thou art pleased to give me power to act in agreement with them. It is only through thy mercy and grace, O Lord, that I can live wisely and faith fully, superior to my spiritual adversaries, and diligent in the improvement of my talents, so that I may finally give account of myself before Thy tribunal, with joy and honor. Ye careless Christians! think of the future judg ment, and begin to be earnest about your salvation. Here you may shine in splendor, or riot in pleasure, or waste your time in idleness and vanity: but what will your condition be in that day, if your life be spent in mere worldiness, and if the momentous concerns of the soul and eternity be now treated with careless and cold indifference? Ye faithful followers of Christ! think of the future judgment, and be not "weary in well doing." Improve your talents, as responsible beings. Let your faith be productive of good works. Strive to do good in your day and generation. Be diligent and persevering. Thus your honour will be great before an assembled world. It is not thus written: " Who will render to every man according to his deeds: to them who by patient continuance in well doing seek for glory and honour and immortality, eternal life." O my Soul! think thou of the future judgment, and remember that no sin will then escape detec tion, and no good thing then will go unrewarded. Let all thou art, and all thou hast, be employed to the glory of God. While thou confidest in redeeming mercy, let the consideration of the last day urge thee to be watchful and diligent in working out thy salvation with fear and trembling. Holy and merciful God, thy word assures me of a judgment to come; may I duly consider that awful day, and be enabled through thy grace so to believe, and to order my conversation in all things, that I may be found to have been a good and faithful servant. Grant this I bescech Thee, for the sake of Jesus Christ our Redeemer and Advocate, Amen. JONES. DEATH ON THE PALE HORSE. The admiration which this painting has excited in the mind of every spectator, is chiefly attributed to the complete personification of those striking passages in the Revelations, which had previously been faintly traced in the mind as mere idealizations of the inspired writer. But those dim and half formed associations of horror, which had been felt in reading the vivid and terrible description in the new testament, are on viewing the pictures, changed into almost the tangible reality of terror. In the former case, the image existed in the mind only; in the latter, the impression is formed by the more forcible evidence of the sences, and is proportionably stronger. Mr. West has depicted the King of Terrors with the physiognomy of the dead in a charnel-house, but animated almost to ignition with inextinguishable rage-placed on his head the kingly crown, and clothed the length of his limbs with a spacious robe of funeral sable. His uplifted right hand is entwined with the serpent who first brought Death into the world, and he launches his darts from both hands in all directions with a merciless impartiality. In the foreground his horse rushes forward with the wildness of a tempestuous element, breathing livid pestilence, and rearing and trampling with the vehemence of unbridled fury.Behind him is seen a demon bearing the torch of Discord, with a monstrous progeny of the reptile world "All prodigious things, The masterly delineation of the PALE HORSE, strikes the attention immediately. The expression which the painter has succeeded in giving to the head of the animal, is absolutely appalling.THE RIDER ON THE WHITE HORSE, is supposed to represent the King of kings going forth "conquering and to conquer," to bruise the head of the ser that has fallen from her breast. The husband deprecates the wrath of the spectre that advances over them all, while the surviving daughter catches hold of her mother, sensible only to the loss which she has sustained by the death of a parent. In the right hand division in the picture, the artist has shown the anarchy of the combats of men with the beasts of the earth. The chief of the human figures in this division, is one in the act of launching his javelin at a lion, which has seized and brought down a man and his horse. In the character with the javelin, Mr. WEST has endeavoured to delineate that species of strength, which enables some men to face, with an undaunted countenance, the rage of the most ferocious animals. His look affords a fine contrast to the alarm and terror of the man who is seized by the enraged lion, which he had wounded with his spear. Below them is a youth who has broken his lance in the combat, and received a fatal blow on the head; behind them a horseman comes forward with an uplifted sword, in the act of striking at a lioness that is springing upon him and his horse. But the story of this group would have been incomplete, had the lions not been shown conquerors, to a certain extent, by the two wounded men who are thrown down as overcome beneath the hoofs of the horse of Death. The one with his back towa ds the spectator seems to regain his strength, and, by still holding his dagger, indicates a wish a to renew the fight; the other, irrecoverably dashed out of the combat, and, having lost his weapon, grasps at the head of his horse with a useless exertion of bewild.. ered sense. The pyramidal form of this large division is perfected by a furious bull torn by dogs as he tosses on his horns the body of a youth. We shall conclude this notice with an extract from a letter of Mr. Leslie, to the present proprietor of the painting:- "At the time Mr. West made his noble present to the Pennsylvania Hospital, his pecuniary affairs were by no means in a prosperous condition. He was blamed by those who did not know this, for pent, and finally to put all things under his feet. selling the first picture he painted for them; but he He is therefore painted with a solemn countenance, expressive of a mind filled with the thoughts of a great enterprise; and he advances onward in his sublime career with that serene majesty in which Divine Providence continues, through the storms and commotions of the temporal world, to execute its eternal purposes. The sensation of pity is strongly awakened by the group, in the foreground. It represents a family belonging to that class of society who are supposed to be safe beyond the reach of the ordinary casualties of life, but who are still not further remote from the darts of death. It is here that the painter has attempted to excite the strongest degree of pity which his subject admitted, and to contrast the sur rounding horrors with images of tenderness and beauty. The mother, in the prime of life, is represented as having expired in the act of embracing her children, and the wo of sudden death is still more emphatically expressed in the lovely infant redeemed his pledge to them, and I can bear witness of his great satisfaction, when he heard that the exhibition of it had so much benefitted the institution. ""He had begun his own portrait to present to the hospital. It was a whole length on a mahogany panel; he employed me to dead colour it for him.He had also made a small sketch of a picture of Dr. Franklin, to present with it. The doctor was seated on the clouds, surrounded by naked boys, and the experiment of proving lightning and electricity to be the same was alluded to.' "The success of the Healing in the Temple, encouraged the painter, and he produced in rapid succession, The Descent of the Holy Ghost on Christ at the Jordan,' ten feet by fourteenThe Crucifixion,' sixteen feet by twenty-eightThe Ascension,' twelve feet by eighteen-and. The Inspiration of St. Peter,' of corresponding extent. The great painting of Christ Rejected,' and |