on the branches of trees, or on the ground, meditating their prey, either birds, squirrels, rats, mice, bats, frogs, hares, or other animals, which seem altogether helpless under the fascination.Asiatic Annual Register.

Enquiries and Correspondence.

Job's Belief in the Resurrection.

DEAR SIR,-Do all those expressions in the fourteenth chapter of Job, verses 10—12, imply Job's belief of the Resurrection, or why does he speak of death as "sleep," and mention a period to it, when he shall awake: even "when the heavens be no more."

A LOVER OF TRUTH.

We think the doctrine of a resurrection is plainly implied in this passage, as well as in other parts of the Book of Job, particularly chapter xix. 25-27. The fact that the patriarch speaks of death as a sleep merely, and fixes a period for its termination, is, to our minds, conclusive on the subject, though there are some other points in the passage referred to which make the case still stronger. "Man giveth up the ghost," says Job, "and where is he?" He does not ask, "Is he?"-does he exist at all? but simply, where? Again, his death is compared to the failing, the decaying, the drying up, of waters, which are not annihilated by such process, but simply evaporated into the atmosphere. In like manner the patriarch describes himself as waiting till "his change"-not his destruction-come. Taking all these expressions in connection with that confident looking forward to a Redeemer described in the nineteenth chapter, we feel no doubt whatever as to Job's creed on this important subject.

John's Message to Christ.

SIR,—In reading a sermon on the text Matt. xi. 3, it occurred to me to ask whether St. John sent his disciples to ask Jesus the question, for their instruction, or his own. If you will answer this question,

You will oblige,

JULIA MARY.

We agree with Doddridge in supposing that John sent his disciples "rather for their satisfaction than his own ;" and though we cannot, with some commentators, allow that John, discouraged by his long imprisonment, began to doubt if Jesus were really the promised Messiah; we think he was very probably actuated by the feeling that he was neglected or forgotten by his Divine Master, and in some measure impatient under his sufferings, which he thought had only to be brought prominently before Jesus, in order to insure immediate redress.

Creation of Sun and Moon.

SIR,-Would you please to inform me in your next publication, how it happened (in the Biblical account of the creation of the world) that before God created the sun, moon, or stars, he said "Let there be light, and there was light;" and what kind of natural light is there that does not proceed from one or other of these causes?

And oblige,

Yours respectfully,

A DOUBTER.

LIGHT is by no means dependant on the sun, which is simply a light-bearer. It is now, indeed, questioned whether the body of the sun is at all luminous; the light which it sheds upon our earth being supposed to proceed entirely from the atmosphere which surrounds it. We know beyond all question that the moon is naturally a dark opaque body, like our own earth, which is indeed its moon; and the same remark applies to all the planets of our system. We see, therefore, no good reason why the sun should not in like manner be merely the dispenser, and not the Prime Fountain of Light. Good Jeremy Taylor has a beautiful remark on the subject of our enquiry, which appears to us as philosophical as it is picturesque and graphic. “The light of the world,” says he, “in the morning of creation, was spread abroad like a curtain, and dwelt nowhere; that filled the expanse with a dissemination great as the unfoldings of the air's looser garments, or the wilder fringes of the fire, without knots, or order, or combination; but God gathered the beams in his hand, and united them into a globe of fire, and all the light of the world

became the body of the sun; and he lent some to his weaker sister that walks in the night and guides a traveller, and teaches him to distinguish a house from a river, or a rock from a plane field."

ALONE BUT NOT ALONE.

WHEN moving in strange scenes-when mingling with strange persons-when performing strange duties-when enduring strange trials-there is comfort and strength to be derived from the reflection, "though I am far from home, I am not far from God, nor can I ever be exiled from His presence." Jacob felt these truths consolatory. He was driven from his home chiefly by the envy of Esau; and at the end of the first day's journey, he reached a plain, whose sod was his couch, and whose stones were his pillow. There he slept, and while he slept, he dreamed, "And behold a ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven: and, behold the angels of God ascending and descending upon it. And behold the Lord stood above it, and said, I am the Lord God of Abraham thy father, and the God of Isaac, the land whereon thou liest to thee will I give it and to thy seed; And, behold I am with thee, and will keep thee in all places whither thou goest, and will bring thee again into this land: for I will not leave thee until I have done that which I have spoken to thee of."

Awaking to bodily consciousness, Jacob awoke to the truth of God's omnipresence, and he said, "Surely the Lord is in this place, and I knew it not." And he called the name of that place "Bethel." Jacob was led by the "vision" to the doctrine. I would lead you by the doctrine to the vision of its happy influence upon the heart which receives it-and as Jacob was comforted and guided through life by the vision he saw at Bethel, and by the doctrine he learned there-so we may hope that our future path will be marked out and be cheered by the reflections of our mind on the same blessed truth-that the omnipresence of God relieves all places of their strangeness and of their solitude.-Rev. 8. Martin.

Farnham.

POETRY.

-

THE MARYS.

"Last at the cross and earliest at the tomb."

WHO watched beside the Saviour's cross
When all forsook and fled?
Who on the Lord of glory gazed
When his life's blood was shed?
Did the disciples linger nigh

To comfort and to cheer,

Did they, in that last solemn hour,
On Calvary's height appear?

Oh no; 'twas woman, scorning all
The world could say or do-
Reckless of punishment, she dared
Be faithful and be true.

She stood beside her dying Lord
In sorrow and in love,
And gloriously on that sad day
Did she her soul's faith prove.

Who sought the Saviour's sepulchre
Long ere the morning light
Had broken o'er Jerusalem

In early splendour bright?

Who brought rich spices to the tomb
Where Christ their Lord was laid,

Earnest and anxious in their task,

To anoint the sacred dead?

'Twas woman, humbly waiting there :
And sweet was her reward,

The Lord she sought, to her addressed,

Kind accents of regard.

For her, upon the cross he deigned

To bow his dying head,

And her's, His words "Why weepest thou?"

When risen from the dead.

ANNIE WHITE.

CHRISTIAN RESIGNATION.

BESIDE a lowly cottage, where the flowers

Cast their rich fragrance on the summer air,
And peace and sunshine mark the passing hours-
Sate a fair boy, with brow untouched by care;
Bright were the fields, and cloudless was the sky,
But what was all that fairy scene to him?
For light had never shone in that dark eye,
And his imaginings were faint and dim ;
And as he listened to the gurgling brook,
That murmured its rich music by his side,
There was a shade of sadness in his look-

Oh! why was life's best gift to him denied? Meekly he clapsed his hands and answered me, "Even so, Father, for it seemeth good to thee."

Within a little coffin there was laid

A lovely infant in her last repose; Like a fair snowdrop in the sunny glade,

Which withers with the first rough wind that blows,

That precious flow'ret faded; silent now

Were those sweet tones that could our care beguile;

The soft curls moved not on her marble brow,
And her calm features wore no beaming smile;
The pale young mother sorrowfully bent

In silent anguish o'er her infant's bier ;

Oh! why had death's stern touch thus sadly rent
The tie which binds the child and parent here?
That mother, midst her tears, said fervently,
"Even so, Father, for it seemeth good to thee.”

Dark change and care passed o'er the rich man's home;
And penury's cold grasp was keenly felt;

For he, in life's decline, was forced to roam

Far from the mansion where his fathers dwelt.
Ah! strangers now would tread that noble hall,
And other voices in his home be heard;

Few memories his virtues would recall;
His name would soon be a forgotten word;