From tree to tree it spread, from town to town,
And orchard after orchard moulder'd down.
Some yet escap'd by Providence and care,
In some few spots, were left alive to bear.

Thus have I seen, with exercise and pain, Among our hopeful youth, so many slain: Some well begun, and promis'd well awhile, On whom propitious Heaven seem'd to smile; And had they in their proper places stood, Would have been made great instruments of good: But by the cursed worm that preys within, (Too much in favour, and too little seen) By slow degrees, for want of watchful care, Are captivated with some pleasing snare: Their former covenant of peace they break, And stand as stumbling blocks before the weak; Tho' oft admonish'd by the inward Guide, To shun the worms, intemperance and pride: To shun the thirst of praise and self-esteem, And look upon them as an empty dream: To shun the bane of lust and vain desire, That sets the body on a flame of fire. But, too presumptuous of their standing grown, Such think they're strong enough to stand alone: Refuse the advice of others, shun their care, Until some secret pleasing bait or snare,

Too long indulg'd, exposes them to view,

As lifeless members and offenders too.

But thanks to God, there are a few who stand, And keep the mark of his reforming hand. Yet let this proper hint be kept in view,

Return the praise, to whom the praise is due.' Should we withdraw our trust from his kind hand, We're not sufficient of ourselves to stand.

VOL. XII.-28

As he's our feeder, let him also lead,
And he'll be present in the time of need.

Of wide destructions wasting, next in course
The hedges round enclosures felt the force.
From year to year, with quick descent, they waste,
Much dead this year that was alive the last;
By an uncommon and a strange decay,
Seen ev'ry season fast to fall away,

Till life is fled, and little more is found,

Than brush and trash, a cumber on the ground:
And when consum'd by fire, or mov'd from thence,
T'accommodate the way to make a fence;

The fence when made, is but of wasting wood,
The dead now stands, where late the living stood.
Next go the hickories as the hedges went,
Which as a judgment or a signal sent,
May teach us circumspection how we live,
And gratefully receive what Heaven may give.
This is of all our choice, the choicest wood,
To warm our chambers, or to dress our food:
It soon takes fire, and fire doth long retain,
And when extinguish'd, soon revives again.
The sap whereof, when drawn by proper heat,
Like honey seems, or more than honey, sweet.

As the pure flames which from sweet incense rise,
Do leave the earth, and mount the lofty skies:
So worshippers in solemn silence bend,
While their oblations and their prayers ascend:
Divinely warm'd, they are divinely fed,
With the substantial, co-eternal bread:
But destitute of this, there's none so poor,

Nor can supplies be had from other store.

Run now and read, all who-can read and run,

And see the end of what is here begun:

Or see an omen ere it be too late,

Or sign prophetic of the church's state.

Should God see meet with his protecting power,
To guard our sinking country now no more:
Should he, incens'd, withdraw his saving hand,
Nor longer prove the safeguard of our land;
But from around us take the hedge away,
Nor guard by night, nor succour us by day:
In vain were all our boast; vain our pretence,
With carnal weapons to support a fence.

What more significant than signs like these, To rouse us from our beds of carnal ease? What can more clearly and expressive show, What to the great almighty Good we owe? But chiefly what concerns the church the most, That what was once bestow'd may not be lost. The gift of preaching by the aid of Heaven, Was to the church with great advantage given; And while preserved pure, without abuse, Is of all outward helps, of greatest use. Let therefore all who thus are dignify'd Alone depend upon the inward Guide: Lest by degrees they wither and decay, And like the wormy peach tree fall away; With loss of verdure and of wholesome fruit, Till "dead in branches, rotten in the root." For in the church should earthly wisdom rise, To preach by form, and therein temporize; Or in the affairs of discipline to act, Advise or censure, govern or direct; Not by the Spirit's teaching, as a guide, But on the wings of empty notions ride, This common observation would be just, "The best of things, corrupted, grows the worst."

For, may it not without reserve be nam'd,
Confirm'd apostates never were reclaim'd?
Or have we heard, or did we ever know,
A bold impostor, solid Christian grow?
Yet, in our pilgrimage, we often find
Both times of ebbs and flowings in the mind.
Some may, for want of steady watchful care,
Receive a wound from satan's poison'd spear,
And yet not lost, may be again restor❜d,
And reconcil'd thro' grace to their offended Lord.
Some, less endu'd with charity than zeal,
May strong desires and warm emotions feel;
And, kindled by some selfish fancied spark,
May labour in a maze, or in the dark;
Yet their design in what they do, sincere,
May come to see their fault, and mend with care;
At first their eye not fully open'd, sees

Not men as such, but only men as trees.
If these submit to the anointing hand,

And wash in Siloam's pool, then shall they stand,
As faithful watchmen on the church's walls,
Who know the Shepherd's voice, from strangers calls.
When Sion's children most in lustre shine,

The preachers, elders, and the youth combine,
To teach, to rule, obey, and further grow,

From strength to strength, as heav'nly blessings flow;
With rays of light and glory from above,

They show th' effects of grace and matchless love.
Thus, as the holy oil on Aaron's head,

From plenteous store, with rich perfume was shed,
Not resting there, did on his beard descend,
And down to where his lowest garments end:
Or, as the dew of Hermon silent falls,

Or fruitful showers on Sion's mountain walls,

Water the vallies, and increase their store,
With blessed fruit of life forevermore:

The flocks partake, yea, all within the fold,

Of diff'rent growths and age, both young and old;
The Shepherd kindly feeds, and cares for all
Capacities; or larger, lesser,-small.

None need distrust him,-ev'n the meanest here,
Who humbly seek, will find his love and care.
Each member has a portion with the rest,
Describ'd by Aaron's head and beard and vest.
Like as the dews and rains in common fall,
To water every plant,-descend on all-
So ministers who in right order stand,
In silence wait to feel Divine command;
Their worship solemn, awful their address,
Know what they feel, and what they feel, express.
What of the word of life they see and hear,
Declare to others with a mind sincere;

In love they meet, and with rejoicing part,
Strengthen'd thro' faith to keep an upright heart:
The best of teachers, Christ, is on their side,
Directs their counsels, and their judgments guide.

But can we now without a sigh relate, The present prospect of the church's state? Prone to the earth or buried under ground, Among the old and middle rank are found, -Who grasp the world, to treasure for an heir, Or for they know not whom,-their chiefest care. Some, giving loose to their unruly rein, Can suit the times, and with the vile be vain, Can cheat for profit, and can lie for gain. Some drink excessive, and, Oh! dismal shame! Can use an oath, or 'gainst the Truth declaim;