MISSIONS.

MISSIONS.

SPIRIT OF MISSIONS! Spark of genuine flame! In God or man developed, still the same. The same, where'er Messiah's followers go,Lights of the world, -to scatter light below. The same, where rise the gorgeous temple's walls, And where on Heaven the forest suppliant calls. The same that bids the herald tempt the wave For burning India, her lost sons to save : Or prompts unnamed philanthropy to trace Through lanes and alleys, misery's dwelling place. The same, where'er benevolence is known,— Lingering in hovels, seated on the throne; Thee, Spirit! we discern, and hail thee now, Essence divine,- Religion's daughter, Thou!

Ere in the void the firmament was hung, Creation's birth ere stars and seraphs sung, Thou hadst thy being. Thousand, thousand times Ten thousand harps had woke immortal chimes To thy sweet praises, and the song above

To thee was rendered, known in heaven as Love.

Say, who of mortals introduced thee here,
And brought celestial blessedness so near?
Say, who of man the sandal girded first,
To seek a welcome, or shake off its dust?
Peace at the door to leave, or doom, more dread
Than that which fell on guilty Sodom's head?
Nay, no mere mortal first that passage trod,
The Prince of missions was the Son of God!
Behold him, in the opening blush of youth,
In his own temple! See the Life, the Truth,
Pointing to venerable men the way

That scribes may miss,-from which the sage may stray.

While scanning there the Missionary Boy,
The skill of ancients finds perplexed employ ;
They listen, wondering, and subdued is pride,
By Wisdom, Beauty, Grace, personified.
Behold him in his Father's work engaged!
Work to be done, though unchained demons raged.
The lame he heals, the blind to sight restores,
And resurrection on death's chamber pours;
Type of the power the God possessed within,
To cure the soul, and raise the dead in sin.

Last words are precious. Who that bendeth o'er The form so loved, so soon beheld no more, — And marks the eye, which, at the spirit's flight, Kindles unwonted, quenched too soon in night,Doth catch not, ere they're hushed in silent death, The lightest whisper of the parting breath,

Oh, how intensely Love doth gather these!

And when the struggling soul has gained release, No miser treasures gold as Love will hoard,

And to the tittle, will fulfil each word.

Man unto man is faithful:- is he thus

To God? Past centuries! ye shall answer us.

Twilight was gathering o'er the Syrian hills, And day's last gleam lay on Judea's rills; The soothing silence light's departure brings, Came, gratefully, on sober evening's wings; And far round Bethany the influence spread, Which o'er retirement's hour is softly shed; When Jesus, with his faithful followers, came On final errand. Him they knew, the same Late lost in death, but now in triumph found, Revisiting the loved, familiar ground,Martha and Mary's town, where Lazarus rose ; There doth the Saviour all his love disclose, And give his last command, — fulfilled, when sea, And earth, as heaven, to Him shall subject be: "Go, ye, and teach all nations; in the name Of Love eternal, saving love proclaim." Finished his work, the great commission given, A cloud his car, the God ascends to heaven. Thus are we answered:- Eighteen hundred years Of crime, and blood, and ignorance, and tears,