No one doubts that we should understand an INSTRUMENT, which it is needful to use in mechanical or other practical concerns:—and, of course, the more important the purpose for which it is used, the greater the necessity for being well acquainted with it. Especially, if it should be necessary (as, for instance, in the case of Herschel's telescope) to enlarge and improve the instrument— besides knowing the precautions required to prevent its getting out of order, how to repair it when from any cause it should be impaired, and how to adapt it to the thousand varying circumstances that might accompany its usenothing is more plain, than that we should understand thoroughly the principles of its construction.

Now, when it is borne in mind that we must OURSELVES be the grand Instruments for accomplishing the purposes of our creation; that we have a constitution, not only complicated and ingenius in its structure to the highest degree of which we have any conception, but "fearfully and wonderfully made;" that, formed as we are in the image of our Maker himself, it is almost sacrilege to compare ourselves with any mere human instrument; that to fulfil our destiny, improved discipline will be required at every step of our progress; that, in consequence of sin, (the saddest of all calamities) disorder already reigns in our constitution, and unless arrested by a wise use of the means of reparation mercifully provided by our Maker, it will bring upon us more disastrous consequences than could befal us by the derangement of the whole physical universe; and that the circumstances to which we shall be called to adapt ourselves during an eternal career, may be no less infinite in variety than our existence will be in duration; the duty of self-acquaintance urges itself upon us with irresistible force. How dare we undertake the office of self-management and self-direction, without it? How can we be our own masters, if we do not understand the being we are to govern? Self-ignorance and enlight

ened self-government are as incompatible with each other. as light and darkness. We must know the powers we call into exercise, before we can use ourselves with wisdom and efficiency. In no other way can we attain skill to operate to the best advantage, with the least amount of labor, as well as with the least wear and tear and waste of material.

Nor does the possession of superior natural abilities lessen the necessity of this knowledge. On the other hand, it makes it the more imperative. The more perfect our bodily constitution, the more we may dare to trifle with it, if we do not understand its laws; because sentence against physical violation may not be executed speedily. And the mere fact that our minds are of superior castadmitting that to be the case-is not enough. Keen-edged tools may not be handled by every one with impunity : they are great enemies to strangers. The steam engine needs to be the better understood in proportion to its power. So, the sharper our wits, the more danger of crippling our energies, if they are not sufficiently understood to be called into proper exercise. And the more powerful our faculties combined, the more disastrous will be the consequences of self-ignorance: we shall be so much the more likely to prove a curse to ourselves and to the world. Especially, if the mind be of a fine, delicate structure, a want of knowledge respecting it may be—as with a nice piece of mechanism-the remote cause of its entire derangement.

"No good of worth sublime will heaven permit
To light on man as from the passing air;
The lamp of genius, though by nature lit,
If not protected, pruned, and fed with care,
Soon dies, or runs to waste with fitful glare."

The first object upon which genius and talent should be brought to bear, is the investigation of the wonderful being in connection with which they have their birth, and

on the management of which their ultimate glory or shame must depend.

And how noble does this application of our abilities appear, when we consider the splendid purpose for which we were made; a purpose of such transcendent magnitude, that it can be justly comprehended only as we progress in its accomplishment. It is like a mountain which we might ascend forever, while new and more sublime elevations revealed themselves at every advance, but whose summit could never be reached. What object for which any mere material instrument was ever employed, can with the least propriety be compared to such a purpose? and consequently, what instrument-what in the universe-is so indispensable for us to understand, as our capacities for achieving it? Although it can only be dimly seen in the present life, still, enough can be known to afford the strongest motives for pressing towards it with all our energies. All who understand and believe the Christain Revelation, must be able to perceive as much as this, namely that we were created to be citizens, not only of this transient world, but of the eternal Kingdom of God, possessing all the interest in the sublime affairs of that kingdom which citizenship implies; to expand and improve ourselves, under increasing advantages, without any known limitation, being invested with responsibilities corresponding with the different stages of our growth; and, by living in harmony with the laws of our Maker, to enjoy him and all the glories of his dominions forever. Is all this comprehended in the purpose of our creation?-nay, is this only the faintest outline of a purpose so vast and so sublime, that its glories can be fully conceived only by the infinite growth of our capacity of conception? If this is not denied, how can we expect ever to work out this purpose, without understanding the being-the noble Instrument-with which it is to be done?

It was necessary that we should have a glimpse of our natural destiny, in order to be fully aware of that grand

fact of self-knowledge, our susceptibility of infinite improvement. And we no sooner become acquainted with this susceptibility, than we find the key with which we may unlock the universe. We find our faculties to be the index to all that it is possible for us to attain to. Our proper destiny must harmonize with our nature; and consequently the study of our nature is the first step to a clear and expansive comprehension of that destiny. So that self-knowledge is necessary, not only to self-use in general, but to enable us to see distinctly the grand object for which we are to be used-and thus make it possible, by employing the means which Providence has provided, to effect that object.

Then, again, the innumerable DUTIES we must perform in the accomplishment of our destiny; we cannot justly comprehend them, except as they are directly revealedand even then we cannot see their reasonableness-only so far as we know ourselves. Our responsibilities must be based upon our nature; and of course we must know the capabilities of that nature, before we can fully understand our obligations. Therefore self-knowledge and selfuse must go together, if we would enter upon the sublime inheritance which is our birthright; and consequently the motive for self-acquaintance is powerful beyond conception. Without it-all other things being equal-everything in the universe will prove a curse to us, instead of a blessing.

MARK OF A WISE MAN.

THE unthinking bulk of mankind are ever amusing themselves with some pursuit foreign to themselves. A wise man is ever looking inward. What matter what you know, if you do not know yourself.-Burgh.

WE intend to give in each number of this Magazine, at least one specimen of the best Poetry in the language-giving the preference to such as most nearly accords with our main design. Well known as the following verses are, we think our readers will not object to the first place being assigned to them, as perhaps affording the most eloquent illustration of the principal aim of our work, that can any where be found.

LEARN TO LABOR AND TO WAIT.

A PSALM OF LIFE.

BY H. W. LONGFELLOW.

TELL me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest !
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us further than to-day.

Art is long, and time is fleeting,

And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,

Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!