And well did Death obey,

And wild his roundelay,

Full many an age he quaffed the blood as rain;
Here, in this hollow span,

Man slew his fellow-man,

And beasts in myriads choked the reeking plainRome clapped the hand, and drowned the dying cry, And called for blood with thirst not ocean could supply.

O where was Pity then?

Fled from the haunts of men,

She sought a refuge in the desert-wild;
There found a surer rest,

Within the tiger's breast,

Nor thought of Man-erst her peculiar child--
While here the shriek of woe, that rose around,
The maddening shout of drunken rapture drowned.

But whence this mingled throng,
The weak amid the strong,

Bowed age, and manly force, and youthful bloom,
The tender babe at rest

Upon its mother's breast,

All mute, like sheep, borne onward to their doom? Sure murder's self that helpless band might spareWhat fight shall they maintain? their only weapon, prayer?

But hark! the acclaiming sound
Re-echoes wildly round,

For sweet to Rome yon peaceful sacrifice-
Hate owns but one fell aim,

To crush the Saviour's name,

And on its ruins raise her doom of lies;

While showers of deep'ning curses, far and wide,
Pour o'er the heads of those, who own the Crucified!

The scene is past—again

Filled is the murderous den,

Who now their will awaits, all bent with
He bears nor sword nor shield,

As from a foughten field,

Clothed like a hermit for his pilgrimage?
What dost thou here, with past'ral staff, alone,
Where Justice hath no place, and Mercy is not known!

Methinks, I see him stand

With eye upraised and hand,

Meekly awaiting what the end may be

* Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch, who was exposed to lions in the Amphitheatre.

Ten thousand voices rise,
To claim the sacrifice,

He hears, nor sees the maddening revelry-
O say, what in yon living blue hath power
To chain his beaming eye in this tremendous hour!

No idle vision plays

In yon meridian rays,

But secret glories of the world above;

He sees the sapphire-throne,
Where Jesus stands to own

And cheer his servant's heart with looks of love-
While heav'n-lit smiles reveal how sweet the sight
Of him he loved unseen, his Joy-his Life-his Light!

Forth from the covert spring
Two lions in the ring,

With rage and hunger bounding on their prey-
Where then the mighty arm,

That awed, as by a charm,

When down at Daniel's feet the monsters lay?
Unchecked their course, while he nor quailed nor fled,
But stroked their shaggy manes, and 'neath their talons bled.

His earthly sands are run!
Hence for thy work is done!

A little moment glut thy rage for blood-
He on his Saviour's breast,
Comforted, and at rest,

(Isaiah lxvi. 18.)

Basks in the glory of the sons of God:

But thou, O Rome, the foster-nurse of kings!

Flee! for the angel comes-I hear the rushing of his wings!

Who is the victim now?

I mark thy blasted brow,

Distraught with war, storm, fire, this many an age!
Since Death serves not for nought,

Thou hold'st the guerdon sought,

Who sows to sin, must reap its bitter wage-
Buhe, whose blood filled up thy cup of mirth,
Joys in his Maker's smile, far from all wrongs of earth.

'Tis sweet to think how soon

The glory of yon moon

Shall cease to glow o'er wrecks of human pride;

All swept before the storm,

That wraps the Saviour's form,

When he descends to claim his ransomed bride;

When Earth shall own no trophy of Sin's reign,

And CHRIST as King be hailed--THE LAMB FOR SINNERS SLAIN !

J. A. LATRObe.

THAT GLANCE.

"AND the Lord turned and looked upon Peter." That disciple but recently met the fierce and searching gaze of the Roman soldiers.The keen eye of the malignant Jew has disturbed him. He was troubled also by the penetrating look of the maid that said, “Thou also was with Jesus of Galilee." But there was one present who had forborne, it seems, till now, to notice the fallen disciple. But when he did, one glance was enough. When Peter's eye met that of his Lord, what emotions were awakened !

It was the look of a friend. And such a friend! Whose kind and sweet voice was it that summoned him from his net to be a fisher of men? What mortal had ever been more favored, as for three years he had dwelt under the radiance of the Light of the world?

Who gave him a vision of heavenly glory on the Mount of Transfiguration; admitting him into the secret places of the Most High, and under the shadow of the Almighty? Who was he that pitied him in his moral darkness and guilt, had assuaged his domestic sorrow, had honoured him with a chief place among the founders of his glorious kingdom, and was now about to die for him, that earthly good might be crowned with everlasting life? There stood such a benefactor bound, buffeted, despised, denied, and his ears now ringing with the language of that denial, and the awful profanity that gave what was already crimson a more deadly hue. There stood he, an injured friend -how kind a friend, how deeply injured!

That glance! Peter understood it. Words were not necessary. Mingled with rebuke, it was a look of kindness still. A glance from such a being, at such an hour, and on such a man-could Peter withstand it? Could he brave that glance, and in spite of it, carry out in hardness of heart, the denial that oath had just confirmed? No! the unhappy man cannot endure it. That gaze of the injured friend caused all that friend's kindness to rush upon his mind, while the consciousness of his own ill-treatment of him overwhelmed him with the deepest remorse and misery.

Reader, the Lord looketh upon you. His eye is not the flaming fire of a righteous judge. 'Tis that of mercy and good will. But is there nothing of rebuke in it? As it called before Peter his own character, is there nothing in yours, for it to fix your eyes upon? Have you no occasion for tears?

THAT GLANCE! Beware of what it shall be when the Redeemer shall come in the clouds of heaven, and every eye shall see him, and they also which pierced him, and all the kindreds of the earth shall wail because of him.

ATHENS-MAR'S HILL, &c.

EXTRACTED FROM THE REV. DR. ROBINSON'S BIBLICAL

RESEARCHES.

WE found a welcome home in the hospitable mansion of Messrs. King and Hill, American Missionaries; and rejoiced to learn that their exertions in behalf of education and religious instruction are duly acknowledged by the Greek people, and are bearing good fruit. The clergy as is well known, are in general opposed to such labours; and the government to a great degree indifferent; except in respect to the female schools of Mrs. Hill, which the government has so far encouraged, as to furnish at its own cost, a certain number of pupils, to be afterwards employed as teachers in national female schools.

It would not become me to enter into any details respecting the antiquities of Athens. Greece was not the object of my journey; nor had a visit to Athens made part of my original plan. I was therefore not prepared to investigate its remains, any farther than I could gather information on the spot from the excellent works of Col. Leake and Dr. Wordsworth. Yet no one can visit Athens without receiving a profound impression of its ancient taste and splendour; and the record of this impression in my own case, is all that I can give.

The most striking feature in Athens is, doubtless the Acropolis. It is a mass of rock, which rose precipitously in the midst of the ancient city, and is still accessible only on its north-west part. On the oblong area of its levelled surface were collected the noblest monuments of Grecian taste; it was the very sanctuary of the arts, the glory, and the religion of ancient Athens. The majestic Propylon, the beautiful Ereotheum, and the sublime Parthenon, all built of the purest marble, though now ruined and broken down, still attest the former splendours of the place, and exhibit that perfect unity of the simple, the sublime, and the beautiful, to which only Grecian taste ever attained. In this respect, there is no other spot like it on earth. Rome has nothing to compare with it; and the vast masses of Egyptian architecture, while they almost oppress the mind with the idea of immensity, leave no impression of beauty or simplicity.

My first visit in Athens was to the Areopagus where Paul preached. This is a narrow, naked ridge of lime-stone rock, rising gradually from the northern end, and terminating abruptly on the south, over against the west end of the Acropolis, from which it bears about north; being separated from it by an elevated valley. The southern end is fifty or sixty feet above the said valley; though yet much lower than the Acropolis. On its top are still to be seen the seats of the judges and parties, hewn in the rock; and towards the south-west is a descent by a flight of steps, also cut in the rock, into the valley below. On the west of the ridges in the valley between it and the Pnyx was the ancient market; and on the south-east side, the later or new market. In which of these is was that Paul "disputed daily," it is of course impossible to tell; but from either, it was only a short

distance to the foot of" Mar's Hill," up which Paul was probably conducted by the flight of steps just mentioned. Standing on this elevated platform, surrounded by the learned and the wise of Athens, the multitude perhaps being on the steps and in the vale below, Paul had directly before him the far famed Acropolis, with its wonders of Grecian art; and beneath him, on his left, the majestic Theseium, the earliest, and still most perfect of Athenian structures; while all around, other temples and altars filled the whole city. Yet here, amid all these objects, of which the Athenians were so proud, Paul hesitated not to exclaim: "God, who made the world and all things that are therein, He being Lord of Heaven and earth, dwelleth not in temples made with hands!" On the Acropolis, too, were the three celebrated statues of Minerva. One of olive wood; another of gold and ivory in the Parthenon, the master-piece of Phidias; and the colossal statue in the open air, the point of whose spear was seen over the Parthenon by those sailing along the gulf. To these Paul probably referred and pointed, when he went on to affirm, that the Godhead" is not like unto gold, or silver, or stone, graven by art and man's device." Indeed it is impossible to conceive of any thing more adapted to the circumstances of time and place, than is the whole of this masterly address; but the full force and energy and boldness of the Apostle's language, can be duly felt, only by one who has stood upon the spot. The course of the argument too is masterly,-so entirely adapted to the acute and susceptible minds of his Athenian audience.

Directly over against the Areopagus, and in full view of the place thus consecrated by the labours of the great Apostle of the Gentiles, is another spot still more distinctly marked, and hardly less interesting, as being the undoubted scene of the patriotic exertions of the great Athenian Orator. On the eastern slope of the longer hill, which runs parallel to the Areopagus, in the west, lies the Pnyx, the place where the assemblies of the Athenian people were held in the open air. It is a semi-circular area; the rock on the upper part being cut away to the depth of eight or ten feet; and the lower part being in some places built up in a straight line with Cyclopian walls. At the highest point, in the middle of the area, a square mass of the rock is left projecting into the area, with steps to ascend it on the sides. Here was the spot the very Bema, on which Demosthenes stood when he addressed the Athenian people in those strains of fervid eloquence which

"Shook th' arsenal, and fulmined over Greece,

To Macedon, and Artaxerxes' throne."

The exactness of this locality cannot well be drawn in question. It is true that the Bema stood originally on the summit of a ridge, some yards above the present spot, whence the orator could see the Piraeus and its fleets; but its position had been changed long before the days of Demosthenes.

One afternoon we rode with Mr. Hill to the supposed site of the Academy where Plato taught his "words of wisdom." There is nothing to mark the site definitively. It lies north-east of the city in the plain, beyond the Cephisus, which is here a brawling brook, much used for irrigating the adjacent fields and gardens. The whole tract is covered with olive-groves. We returned by the hill of