AMBITION.

A HIGH look, and a proud heart, and the ploughing of the wicked is sin.-Proverbs, xxi. 4.

Though thou exalt thyself as the eagle, and though thou set thy nest among the stars, thence will I bring thee down, saith the Lord. --Obadiah, 4.

Woe unto you, Pharisees, for ye love the uppermost seats in the synagogues, and greetings in the markets.--Luke, xi. 43.

TWICE told the period spent on stubborn Troy,
Court favour, yet untaken, I besiege;
Ambition's ill-judged efforts to be rich.
Alas! Ambition makes my little, less;
Embittering the possessed: why wish for more?
Wishing, of all employments, is the worst.

Young.

Woe to thee, wild Ambition! I employ
Despair's low notes thy dread effects to tell;
Born in high heaven, her peace thou could'st destroy;
And but for thee, there had not been a hell.
Through the celestial domes thy clarion pealed;
Angels, entranced, beneath thy banners ranged,
And straight were fiends; hurled from the shrinking field,
They waked in agony to wail the change.

Darting through all her veins the subtle fire,

The world's fair mistress first inhaled thy breath; To lot of higher beings learned to aspire;

Dared to attempt, and doomed the world to death. Maria A. Brooks.

The sons of earth

Who, vexed with vain disquietude, pursue
Ambition's fatuous light through miry pools,
That yawn for their destruction, stray, foredoomed,
Amid delusive shadows to their end.

William Herbert.

Ambition, when the pinnacle is gained
With many a toilsome step, the power it sought
Wants to support itself, and sighs to find
The envied height but aggravates the fall.

George Bally.

ANGELS.

AND 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 on it.-Genesis, xxviii. 12.

The angel of the Lord encampeth round about them that fear Him, and delivereth them.--Psalm xxxiv. 7.

For He shall give His angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.

They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.--Psalm xci. 11, 12.

Then the devil leaveth Him, and behold, angels came and ministered unto Him.--Matthew, iv. 11.

Thinkest thou that I cannot now pray to my Father, and he shall presently give me more than twelve legions of angels.--Matthew, xxvi. 53.

There is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth.--Luke, xv. 10.

Verily, verily, I say unto you, hereafter ye shall see Heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.--John, i. 51.

And I beheld, and I heard the voice of many angels round about the throne, and the beasts and the elders: and the number of them was ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands; Saying with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing.--Revelations, v. 11, 12.

And I saw another angel fly in the midst of Heaven, having the everlasting gospel to preach unto them that dwell on the earth.-Revelations, xiv. 6.

AND is there care in heaven? and is there love
In heavenly spirits to the creatures base,

That may compassion of their evils move?

There is; else much more wretched were the case
Of men than beasts. But O! th' exceeding grace
Of highest God that loves his creatures so,
And all his works with mercy doth embrace,
That blessed angels he sends to and fro,

To serve to wicked men, to serve his wicked foe.

Spenser.

The multitude of angels, with a shout
Loud as from numbers without number, sweet
As from blest voices uttering joy, Heaven rung
With jubilee, and loud Hosannas filled

The eternal regions: lowly reverent

Towards either throne they bow, and to the ground, With solemn adoration down they cast

Their crowns inwove with amarant and gold.-Milton.

Angels are men of a superior kind;
Angels are men in lighter habit clad,

High o'er celestial mountains winged in flight;
And men are angels loaded for an hour,

Who wade the miry vale, and climb with pain,
And slippery step, the bottom of the steep.
Angels their failings, mortals have their praise;
While here, of corps ethereal, such enrolled,
And summoned to the glorious standard soon,
Which flames eternal crimson through the skies.
Nor are our brothers thoughtless of their kin,
Yet absent, but not absent from their love.
Michael has fought our battles; Raphael sung
Our triumphs; Gabriel on our errands flown,
Sent by the Sovereign; and are these, O man!
Thy friends and warm allies, and thou (shame burn
Thy cheek to cinder!) rival to the brutes!-Young.
These are the haunts of meditation, these

The scenes where ancient bards the inspiring breath,
Ecstatic felt: and, from this world retired,
Conversed with angels, and immortal forms,
On gracious errands bent: to save the fall
Of virtue, struggling on the brink of vice;
In waking whispers, and repeated dreams;
To hint pure thought, and warn the favoured soul,
For future trials fated, to prepare.

Thomson.

They are God's minist'ring spirits, and are sent,
His messengers of mercy, to fulfil
Good for salvation's heirs. For us they still
Grieve when we sin, rejoice when we repent:
And on the last dread day they shall present
The severed righteous at His holy hill,

With them God's face to see, to do His will,
And bear with them His likeness. Was it meant,
That we this knowledge should in secret seal,
Unthought of, unimproving? Rather say,
God deigned to man His angel hosts reveal,
That man might learn, like angels, to obey;
And those who long their bliss in Heaven to feel,
Might strive on earth to serve him ev'n as they.

Bp. Mant.

When by a good man's grave I muse alone,
Methinks an angel sits upon the stone;

Like those of old on that thrice-hallowed night,
Who sate and watched in heavenly raiment bright;
And with a voice inspiring joy, not fear,

Said, pointing upward, that he is not here,
That he is risen!
Samuel Rogers.

Elysian race! while o'er their slumbering flocks
The Galilean shepherds watched, ye came
To sing hosannas to the heaven-born Babe,
And shed the brightness of your beauty round:
Nor have ye left the world, but still, unseen,
Surround the earth, as guardians of the good,
Inspiring souls, and leading them to heaven;
And oh! when shadows of the state unknown
Advance, and life endures the grasp of death,
'Tis yours to hallow and illume the mind,
The starry wreath to bring, by angels worn,
And crown the spirit for her native sphere.

Robert Montgomery.

Hark! what mean those holy voices,
Sweetly sounding through the skies?
Lo! the angelic host rejoices,

Heavenly hallelujahs rise.

Listen to the wond'rous story,

Which they chant in hymns of joy:

"Glory in the highest, glory!

Glory be to God most high!

Peace on earth, good will from heaven,
Reaching far as man is found;

Souls redeemed, and sins forgiven:-
Loud our golden harps shall sound!"

"Many in this world of cares,"

Cawood.

Truly hath the poet said,

"Sit with angels unawares;'

Round our path, and round our bed.
Angels ever watch and wait.

Striving still to turn our steps unto heaven's gate.

Anon.

ANGER.

O LORD, rebuke me not in thine anger, neither chasten me in thy hot displeasure.--Psalm vi. 1.

A wrathful man stirreth up strife; but he that is slow to anger appeaseth strife.--Proverbs, xv. 18.

Be not hasty in thy spirit to be angry; for anger resteth in the bosom of fools.--Ecclesiastes, vii. 9.

Be ye angry, and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath. Ephesians, iv. 26.

THE anger of the Lord? Oh, dreadful thought!
How can a creature frail as man endure
The tempest of His wrath? Ah, whither flee
To 'scape the punishment he well deserves?
Flee to the cross! the great atonement there
Will shield the sinner, if he supplicate
For pardon with repentance true and deep,
And faith that questions not. Then will the frown
Of anger pass from off the face of God,

Like a black tempest-cloud that hides the sun.

The golden sun is going down,
Or melting in the west away:

Anon.

Where are the clouds that seem'd to frown

So darkly on the rising day?

Molten is every gloomy fold,
In yonder sea of liquid gold.

The winds, at morn so rude and hoarse,
Make music for an angel's ear;

The sun, beclouded in his course,

Beholds the heavens, at evening, clear;
And now doth with the tempest's wreck
His glorious pavilion deck.

Lord, sure thy countenance is here;
Thy spirit all the vale informs:
Whatever, in this inward sphere,
Remains to tell of angry storms,
Oh! let it melt away, and leave
No cloud to darken life's calm eve!

Joseph Gostick.