none should ever come to be a member of it, or a sharer in its blessings, but by the same faith that he had, fixed on the Seed that was in the promise, to be brought forth from him in the world. On the account of this privilege, he became the father of all them that believe; for they that are of faith, the same are the children of Abraham, Gal. iii. 7. Rom. iv. 11. and thus he became heir of the world, ver. 13. in that all that should believe throughout the world, being thereby implanted into the covenant made with him, should become his spiritual children. "Answerable to this two-fold end of the separation of Abraham, there was a double seed allotted to him: a seed according to the flesh, separated to bring forth the Messiah according to the flesh; and a seed according to the promise, that is, such as by faith should have interest in the promise, or, all the elect of God. Multitudes afterwards were of the carnal seed of Abraham, and of the number of the people separated to bring forth the Messiah in the flesh; and yet not of the seed according to the promise, nor interested in the spiritual blessings of the covenant, because they did not personally believe, as the apostle declares, Heb. iv. And many afterwards, who were not of the carnal seed of Abraham, nor interested in the privilege of bringing forth the Messiah in the flesh, were yet destined to be made his spiritual seed by faith, that in them he might become heir of the world, and all nations of the earth be blessed in him. "Now, it is evident that it is the second privilege, and spiritual seed, wherein the church, to whom the promises were made, is founded, and whereof it doth consist, namely, in them who by faith are interested in the covenant of Abraham, whether they be of the natural seed or no. And herein lay the great mistake of the Jews of old, wherein they are followed by their posterity unto this day. They thought no more was needful to interest them in the covenant of Abraham, but that they be his seed according to the flesh; and they constantly pleaded the latter privilege, as the ground and reason of the former. "It is true, they were the children of Abraham according to the flesh; but, on that account, they can have no other privilege than Abraham hâd in the flesh himself: and this was, as we have shewed, that he should be set apart as a special channel, through whose loins God would derive the promised seed into the world. The former carnal privileges of Abraham and his posterity, expired on the grounds before mentioned; having answered their end, the ordinances of worship, which were suited thereunto, did necessarily cease also; and this cast the Jews into great perplexities, and proved the last trial that God made of them. For whereas both these, namely, the carnal and spiritual privileges of Abraham's covenant, had been carried on together in a mixed way for many generations, coming now to be separated, and a trial to be made, who of the Jews had interest in both, who in one only; those who had only the carnal privilege of being children of Abraham according to the flesh, contended for a share, on that single account, in the other also, that is, in all the promises annexed to the covenant. But the foundation of their plea was taken away, and the church unto which the promises belong, remained with them that were heirs of Abraham's faith only. The church unto whom all the spiritual promises belong, are only those who are heirs of Abraham's faith, believing as he did, and thereby interested in his covenant." (To be continued.) POETRY. THE SUICIDE. SENT to the public school to know Untutor❜d yet in specious arts, Ambitious he to top the school, Now summon'd to his father's board, But in domestic bliss full oft "Wo worth the day," for thee, alas! The tide of sorrow soon restrain'd, Vain of his wealth, his listening ear Vice is progressive; else it might He, unsuspicious of their art, He did, and habit soon confirm'd Thas five years roll'd in giddy round, Five years bad sped, the sixth had dawn'd, So wide before him, to devour Yet soon he started from his dream, Yes, he repented, but, say when? 'Twas then too late-ah! so he found, Ah! would he peace of mind obtain, But pride lit up that scorching fire, 'Twas pride that rais'd its flames still higher, 'Twas this that urg'd him to that wave Which roll'd upon his sea-wash'd grave. But Lucifer, who, for his pride was hurl'd From heaven's bright portals to the flaming world, To dwell in galling chains, and penal fire, gall; A plan in which his wisdom, truth, and love, Should shine resplendent, while the hosts above Stoop from their pearly thrones in deep amaze, To view with wonder man restor❜d by grace. That cheering promise which Jehovah made, "The woman's seed shall bruise the serpent's head;" Inspir'd with humble hope the guilty pair, Assuag'd their anguish, and allay'd their fear; When banish'd Eden, and condemn'd to go And till the ground, and bear the curse of wo. After four thousand years had wing'd their flight, And men were sitting in the shades of night, That star arose upon our rebel fold, To patriarchs promis'd, and by seers foretold, Though 'twas his plastic mandate which gave birth To sun and moon, and stars, and verdant earth; torn; For us the rugged cross to Calv'ry bore; PASSIONS AND EMOTIONS, OR How sweet to rove at opening day, And hear soft warblers singing. How sweet to seek the shady grove, The happy moments, oh ! how sweet, Sweet, then, is the responsive sigh, How sweet is liberty to those In dungeons dark and dreary; rose Swift as a pouncing tiger, and in form As horrid-black Despair!-then with his wing, Dark as the depth of that profound abyss Where all are his curst slaves, hideous as death, He hid the mighty spirit. Then a gloom, The shades grew darker, and his fierce opponents Pressed with more force, and seem'd yet more terrific. He turn'd and struggled, and the clanking fetters Creaked thro' their rusty links. He writh'd, he wrestled, But all was vain. The adamantine chains Bound his Herculean nerves, and kept him helpless, But yet he rested not; he strove for freedom, A ray of light shot through the vault of heav'n. Its luminous appearance shocked the spectres. A powerful beam piercing the dreadful dark 'Twas then he heard the songs of distant days, Telling, in notes enchanting, glorious deeds. Recounting to his ears the names of heroes, And their surprising feats, in lays melodious. "Twas then be felt desire arise within To know these ancient glories; but the chains Which bound him, and the spectre pair which watch'd Unceasingly around, thwarted his hope. And gathering all his powers for one strong struggle, As men besieged, for their last desperate sally, He lay a moment-suddenly he movedWrestling against his mighty enemies, And with enormous strength, seizing his chains, He snapt the iron bond, it yields before him, As the green withs and cords to Samson yielded. At sight of this, Despair, all panic-struck, Stood for a moment, like a statue fixt, Half-wild, half-stupid with astonishment. At length recovered from his fright, be fled. The spirit struggled still, and Ignorance Had fallen victim to his dire revenge, But she fled also. Nymphs and shades of yore Flutter'd with buoyant wing around his head, And he, struggling for liberty and life, Broke with gigantic might the other chain. But scarcely was he free, when there arose, From the deep shades beneath, a ghastly form, The sire of Ignorance and dark Despair, With frown terrific. He cast forth a gleam Worse than the three-fork'd lightning of high heaven. Its hideous rays alighting on this spirit, O'erpower'd his eyes, and caused a short-lived darkness. Then flew the monster, binding him again A creature fresh and strong, renewed through bond; Again was free, with life and bliss before him. But as I gazed to see how he improv'd He came, and, for a moment, bound my eyes. TO THE EVENING STAR. GLITTERING Spark! refulgent orb! Well mayest thou my thoughts absorb; While I view thee rais'd on high Like a diamond in the sky: Like a diamond?-No, thy light Far more glorious and bright Than the purest costliest gem He who form'd yon starry sky, But this glorious truth I learn: Where his praises shall ascend, But the awful contrast view: They who Jesus's mercy knew, And despised his wondrous grace, Through my own neglect I came The body sunk, to worms a prey; Then the righteous will enjoy REVIEW.-The Deserted City; Eva, a Tale in two Cantos; and other Poems. By Joseph Bounden. London. Longman, Hurst, and Co. 1824. pp. 226. THE "Deserted City" is a simple and elegant poem; though too close a resemblance of Goldsmith's "Deserted Village." Hence it is unfortunate, because it cannot but form a contrast with that most exquisite performance. The commencement is a fair sample of this obvious similitude, "Sweet Auburn! loveliest village of the plain," &c. GOLDSMITH. "Proud Urburgh! once fair city of this land," &c. DESERTED CITY. It never rises far above mediocrity, and it seldom sinks beneath it. The lines are smooth, and the cadences harmonious; but it is spun out too far, giving rise to numerous unnecessary digressions. It extends to eightysix pages, each containing, on an average, twenty-four lines. The following are among the best. "Now let me turn my lonely wand'ring feet Amidst yon ruins of a noble street. What melancholy silence slumbers here, Where busy tumult lately fill'd the ear! Day-dreaming owls in desert chambers sleep; And birds obscene thro' useless temples No feet save mine remain to tread the ground; No other voice invades the still profound. Nor neighing steeds nor rattling wheel is beard: Nor midnight sound, except the shrieking bird: No more the proud cathedral's deep-ton'd bell Proclaims the circling hours with solemn swell No more the punctual tradesman marks the day; Nor idler loiters his long hours away: In vain the sun his morning beams bestows; Here none are left to rise from night's repose; The moon in vain her softer radiance pours; None-none remain to hail the pensive hours; Time treads his round, unreckon'd and unknown; And deathlike silence claims this spot her own Here holds her speechless reign,-here builds her midnight throne." p. 19-20. The second in order is "Eva," a most charming poem. We have seldom, in later years, read more exquisite poetry; we could hardly persuade ourselves that the same author had written both. The poem opens with a description of the beautiful Eva; of her romantic habits, and of the magnificent scenery through which she loved to wander. fond of moonlight scenery; so are we. The following stanza, for instance, is exquisite. Mr. B. is very |