public diversion; entered alike, by right, both the market and theatre; and, consequently, notwithstanding the smallness of these states, the numbers that flocked to those places, and were to be accommodated in them, greatly exceeded that which, in our larger states, need to be admitted into similar edifices. As in these, onehalf could not, as in the temple, be detained outside, while the other was admitted within, these buildings or places, necessarily made of immense capacity, were as necessarily left uncovered.

"Still, in a country where natural organization, acquired habits, religion, polity, and every other accessory, led to the fullest development of the imitative arts,—to all that sculpture or painting could exhibit of the most fascinating combinations,―public edifices, whether destined for religious or other purposes, for business or pleasure; whether temples or porticos, theatres or stadia, were decorated, even in the exposed parts, with profusion the more unbounded, because the clear atmosphere exhibited the full beauty, and the mild temperature insured the complete preservation of works of art.”*

It is remarkable that the private habitations of the Grecians were, externally at least, as plain and unostentatious, as their public edifices were magnificent and tasteful. This has been justly attributed to the democratic organization of their government. The people were peculiarly sensitive and jealous with respect to every thing which might appear to be a display of personal pre-eminence. While the place of worship or debate, therefore, which was the property of all, exhibited on every side, the utmost perfection of elegance and grandeur, the private building only showed a mere blank surface; and," like a temple inverted, possessed not external columns surrounding a solid body, but inclosed its pillars within its exterior walls."

"But that very circumstance," adds the author quoted above," produced greater magnificence of public edi

Hope on Architecture.

fices. The citizen, unable to give vent to his pride, in his private habitation, only sought the more to gratify it, in the constructions destined to purposes of public magnificence or utility. These latter remained less confounded with,-soared the more over the former. They attained, in greater number, that size of parts, that splendour of decoration, that has made them the wonder of all succeeding ages. Thus it was that, at Athens, the Temple of Jupiter Olympius, was adorned externally with two rows of columns of Penthetic marble, of the Corinthian order; consequently of the utmost height, in proportion to their diameter, which, at their base, exceeded six feet and a half.”*

The period between Pericles and Alexander seems to have been the most flourishing era of Greek architecture. That people never departed from the style which originated with them, and hence received the distinctive name of Grecian. It presented, through all its stages, a strict conformity to the essential elements of the wooden hut which formed its earliest model. It is curious to observe to what extent the correct and elegant taste of this remarkable nation has influenced the architecture of subsequent ages. An inferior mind may perceive and imitate the beautiful; it requires native genius to invent and embody it.

* The proportion of eight diameters would cause the columns to exceed fifty-two feet.

312

ELEVENTH WEEK.-SUNDAY.

DIVINE STRENGTH MADE PERFECT IN HUMAN WEAKNESS.

In the last Sunday paper, I showed how cold and indifferent men generally are, with regard to spiritual things, compared with the alacrity and zeal which they exert in promoting their temporal interest. But although this most irrational preference of time to eternity is one of the universal characteristics of our fallen nature, there are some, I trust there are many, who are animated by a different spirit; and my object in the present paper, shall be to show by what means this difference is induced.

Considered in a religious light, the various characters which exist in the Christian world, may be reduced to the two alluded to by our Saviour,-the children of this world and the children of light. On those who belong to the former class, all motives and all arguments have been urged in vain. A thousand appeals have been made to their sense of duty, of interest, and of gratitude, but in vain. In vain have they been exhorted to obey their Creator and Redeemer; in vain have they been warned to flee from the wrath to come. They have been reminded of the glory, honour, and immortality which awaits believers; they have been adjured by the love of God, and by the mercy and compassion of Christ, but all in vain. They have listened to these appeals, and have been roused, perhaps, for a moment; but they have fallen again into their deep sleep; or have only remained awake, that reflection might be drowned in the intoxicating cup of the world, which they again empty to the very dregs.

Neither has the warning voice of Providence power to gain admittance to their hearts. Alas! In what expressive language does God speak to our souls, in the

How so

events which are daily passing around us! lemnly, how pathetically, does He warn us, that our treasure is not on earth; that there is here no continuing city or place of abode! How painfully are we reminded, that human strength is but a shadow; that human pleasure is but a dream; that life itself is but a vapour, which appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away. Men see their hopes blasted, their enjoyments fading, their friends, one by one, perishing around them; -and what is the consequence? They shed a tear; they breathe a sigh; they say all is vanity; and then (O strange infatuation!), they return with greediness to those very pursuits of which they have seen the emptiness and the termination.

Such is the state of those who are emphatically called the children of this world. But there are others on whom these appeals and warnings produce a very different effect. At one period of their lives, they were perhaps as callous and unmoved as their fellows; but now they are awakened, and they wonder at the weakness and perverseness of their former selves, being sensible that "there is no profit in those things of which they are now ashamed." These have become impressed with the importance of spiritual truths. They realize to their souls the doctrines of the gospel, and behold all things in a new light. To their unveiled eye heaven opens in its glory above them, and the place of torment yawns in its horrors beneath their feet. The love of God is shed abroad in their hearts, and gratitude to their Redeemer glows in every feeling of their souls. They hear the warning voice of Providence in every event of their lives. "In prosperity they are joyful, in adversity they consider;" deeply sensible that it is God who " has set the one over against the other." When they are in distress, they sorrow not as others who have no hope." When they rejoice, their gladness is a foretaste of the joy of angels. They possess, in short, that faith "which is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of

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things not seen;" which exhibits time in its true light, and realizes the eternal world.

Whence this difference, so entire, so universal, so astonishing? How comes it that human beings should be so opposite to each other in their feelings, their desires, and their affections? Nay, how does it happen, that the very same individual should, at different periods of his life, be so opposite to his former self? Is it by his own efforts that this change is effected? Does he exert his own mental energies, merely, when he is renewed in the spirit of his mind,—when he dies and lives again; and, throwing aside, like a chrysalis, his earthly coil, soars, as it were, a new creature, in a new element? If so, in what corner of the unregenerate heart does this power lie dormant? Why did it resist, till now, all the discipline of Providence, and all the vivifying influences of the gospel?

The conclusion is irresistible; "it is not in man who walketh to direct his steps." Something more substantial, more powerful, must operate on the soul than is to be found either in itself, or in the ordinary means of grace. And what is this? It is no other than the Spirit of God. He must move on our hearts, before the veil can be removed from our darkened understandings; before our earthly affections can be expelled; and before we can be made to warm with new life, and to be animated with heavenly desires. Without these Divine influences we are helpless and undone. This is a doctrine beyond the reach of mere human wisdom, but it is the clear and unequivocal voice of revelation. “The carnal mind," says an apostle, "is enmity against God; for it is not subject to the law of God; neither indeed can be ;" and the very same intimation is made by our Saviour himself. "No man can come unto me, except the Father, who hath sent me, draw him." The renovating and transforming power of the Holy Spirit is, indeed, constantly either expressed or implied throughout the whole of the New Testament Scriptures. It is He