know how great Shakspeare and a few others are, without classic learning we know not how much greater they would have been, with it. The towering genius of Milton all will acknowledge-his sublime works will go down with the volume of inspiration to the remotest time-yet while he is no copyist, every page gives evidence of a most familiar knowledge and just appreciation of the writings of the ancients-contains some delicate beauty, some forcible illustration, some ingenious reflection, derived from those compositions to which he devoted his earlier years.

If the ancient classics are not read in the original, the virtue of the mental exercise is lost-that vigorous action, which, like the engagements of the palæstra, knits firmly the sinews and muscles of the mind. Besides this, if it is necessary to profit by perfect models, they are to be contemplated in the best light, and not when their beauties are obscured by the misty atmosphere of a translation. That they are perfect models, in oratory and historic writing, in lyric, epic, and dramatic composition, has been conceded by the intelligent of all ages; and that the beauties of a language abounding in metaphors, which embody, as it were, in sensual forms, the creations of the mind, and delighting in graceful compounds, can never be transfused into our tongue, must be owned by all who have the ability to form, and the candor to express, a just judgement. Therefore, in the language of Horace, we admonish you,

"Vos exemplaria Græca, Nocturna versate manu, versate diurna;"

and you will find with him who was great in action, as in counsel, in the senate and in the forum, wielding the consular fasces or enjoying the "otium cum dignitate" of his Tusculan villa—“Hæc studia adolescentiam alunt, senectutem delectant, secundas res ornant, adversis perfugium ac solatium præbent-delectant domi, non impediunt foris, pernoctant nobiscum, peregrinantur, rusticantur."

With a generous enthusiasm you have devoted your days and your nights, gentlemen, to liberal studies; within the precincts of

yonder temple, sacred to wisdom, you have seen in reality, the fabulous Panchaia of the happy islands, and in their works have contemplated the monuments of those consecrated to immortality, reared by their own sublime genius. You have delighted to sweep the dust of ages from the papyrus, and peruse its venerable records-the relics of ancient literature, sanctified by the touch of time, have enkindled a lively admiration of the beauties of Greece, and the colossal grandeur of Rome-you have investigated their polity, their laws, their religion, and from the whole have deduced principles

"To warm the genius and to mend the heart."

You have revelled in the riches of classic lore, and you have done well. But there is another Classic which I feel bound to commend to you, equally ancient in origin and interesting in narrative; equally chaste in style, and more sublime in its records, its philosophy and its precepts the scriptures of the OLD and NEW TESTAMENT.

In this volume, you have a pleasant picture of the simplicity of the early ages, in all the flowing vivacity of Herodotus, without his fables-you have the exhibition of man in his political connexions and commotions-the spread of empire and the desolations of war-the achievements of men and the miracles of God-described with all the force and atticism of Thucydides, and the graces of Zenophon--you have a morality exactly suited to the nature and destiny of man, more elevated than ever came from the Portico or Academy—a system of laws and religion that far transcend the dreams of ancient sages -promulgated by him to whom power and dominion and adoration belong--every variety of composition, characterized by all the sublimities and beauties of style of passion, of sentiment, and of action—the visions of the seer, the denunciations of the prophet, the teachings of the sage, the inspirations of the psalmist, the records of the evangelist, and the triumphs of the martyr-tending to inform the mind, move the sensibilities, refine the taste, and above all, purify the heart-fit it for the discharge of the duties of life, and for the

destinies of another and a better world. This classic, above all others, I would commend to you.

Compare its cosmogony with that of any who have dreamed upon this subject, either philosophers or poets-the Orphic egg of the Egyptians—the mud principle of Sanchoniatho, or the aqueous of Thales-the atoms of Epicurus, or the active and passive principles of Zeno, Plato and Aristotle-with the vainer imaginings of the poets-and you cannot hesitate for a moment to acknowledge the superiority of Moses' to that of all others-in truth and magnificence—the mighty God, by the word of his power, speaking the universe into existence-"He spake and it was done." "He commanded and it stood fast." But while all other cosmogonies are inferior to this, they attest its truth-the universality of the idea of the proper creation, carried by tradition into every portion of the habitable earth.

The chronology of the Bible, although disputed by those who have been guided by erroneous and contradictory eras, periods and divisions of time, and those who mistake the imaginations of science for realities-has been attested by concurrent prophane history, by astronomical calculations, and the discoveries of true science; and its historical facts are proved by the histories of other nations by ruins, by monuments and medals.

Compare the commandments given to Moses with the laws of Solon, Minos, Lycurgus, Pythagoras or the ancient statutes of Egypt and of Rome—and while you will find them, at best, imperfectly suited to that particular people for whom they were made, you will find the requirements of the Decalogue of universal application, suited to the condition and character of every kindred and tongue-bearing upon them the broad seal of the sovereign KING of KINGS, to whom the world and the inhabitants thereof belong.

And while the systems of pagan theology that were the most rational, proposed a metaphysical worship which was above the comprehension of the ignorant, it is the beauty of the glorious system of the Bible, that the poor have the gospel preached to them; and that, while it has truths to employ the most lofty in

telligence, "a way-faring man, though a fool, need not err" in comprehending its precepts. Imbue your hearts with its doctrines-obey its counsels-carry out its principles in thought, word and deed; and, sustained through the trials of life by its holy influences, you shall lie down in your graves in peace, with better hopes than ancient sages ever knew-secure of joys to which the brightest dreams of their Elysium are dim and fading.

You will be told by some that the Greek of the Old and New Testament is barbarous-believe it not!-that it has imperfections and errors of style. It is not the fact. Its peculiarities, even those that are condemned by the captious, its transitions, changes and irregularities, will be found, by the true scholar, to be parallel with those of the most refined Grecian authors. You who have drunk of the waters of Helicon, will not find those of "Siloa's brook, that flows fast by the Oracle of God," less invigorating, nor the dews of Hermon less sweet than those of the Aonian Aganippe. You who have listened to the ravings of the Sybil, and the wild frenzy of the Pythoness will rejoice to hear the seers of old, as they wildly sweep the harp to the oracles of God.

"Howl! ye ships of Tarshish, for it is laid waste-so that there is no house; no entering in. From the land of Chittim it is revealed to them. Be still ye inhabitants of the isle. Thou whom the merchants of Sidon that pass over the sea, have replenished. Be thou ashamed Oh! Sidon, for the sea hath spoken, even the strength of the sea, saying I travail not nor bring forth children; neither do I nourish young men nor bring up maidens. Pass ye over to Tarshish! Howl ye inhabitants of the isle. Is this your joyous city whose antiquity is of ancient days? Her own feet shall carry her far off to sojourn. Pass through thy land as a river, O daughter of Tarshish, for there is no more strength."

If you have admired in the Chorus of Antigone, the attributes of the deity,

“ Αγερῶς χρονῶ δυνάστας

Κατέχεις Ολυμπου
Μαρμαρίεσσαν αιγλαν,”

you will be more highly gratified with the same in the language of the Apostle:

O μακαριος και μονος δυνάστης, ο Βασιλευς των βασιλευοντῶν, και
Κυριος τῶν κυριευοντων; ο μονος εχῶν αθανασίαν, φως οικών απρόσιτον.

If you have risen, with the sublimity of the Grecian bard, to Jove amid the clouds of Olympus, in reading the admired lines,

Η, και κυανέησιν επ' οφρύσι νευσε Κρονίων

Αμβροσιαι δ' αρα χαιται επερρώσαντο άνακτος

Κρατος απ' αθανατοιο μεγαν δ' ελλελιξεν Ολυμπον;

you will rise, with the inspiration of the psalmist, to the Omnipotent who maketh the heaven of heavens his abode.

“Then the earth shook and trembled; the foundations also of the hills moved and were shaken, because he was wroth. There went up a smoke out of his nostrils and fire out of his mouth devoured: coals were kindled by it. He bowed the heavens also and came down, and darkness was under his feet. He rode upon a cherub and did fly; yea he did fly upon the wings of the wind. He made darkness his secret place; his pavilion round about him were dark waters and thick clouds of the skies. At the brightness that was before him, his thick clouds passed--hailstones and coals of fire. The Lord also thundered in the heavens, and the Highest gave his voice."

If commiseration of the unhappy exile has been awakened in your breast by the plaint of Meliboeus,

"Nos patriæ fines, et dulcia linquimus arva

Nos patriam fugimus,"

your feelings will be more excited at the lament of the daughters of Zion, as they sit in sorrow by the waters of Babylon; or at the captivity of the young king of Israel-"Weep not for the dead, but for him that goeth away from his country, for he shall return no more."

If you have been pleased with the Doric reed of Theocritus and the mellow flute of Virgil, you cannot fail to enjoy the fervent, yet delicate passion of the pastoral of Solomon. If you have admired the epigrams of Martial, the golden sentences of Pythagoras, you will relish still more the precepts of Ecclesiastes and the Proverbs. If the elegiac strains of Tibullus and Ovid have excited tender sentiments of sorrow, your heart will be melted at the sorrows of the Saviour over Salem, the Lamentations of Jeremiah and the threnetic plaint of Hosea.

"Oh Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets and stonest them that are sent unto thee, how oft would I have gathered thy children