currence of others for their consent, and to think there can be no error in ourselves when we hear of no objection from others. But this is not a state in which man can be safely placed. The heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked; and till that heart is changed, its real essential nature will betray itself, either at home or abroad, whenever opportunities are offered, and power is given. And thus it is, that we continually are compelled to see how selfishness establishes itself in home, and abuses the immunities of home to the destruction of the soul which thinks that it has found its rest there. Man shrinks from the collision of the world, not because he hates the world, as withdrawing him from God; hut because his pride is offended by it, and because he is withdrawn from self by it. He intrenches himself in the sacred precincts of home, not because he loves home, but because he loves himself, and can there love himself without disturbance or contradiction; and thus it is that he merely escapes from the tumult of the world in order to be the petty tyrant of his little circle, the inflated idol to which all at home must bow down and worship.

Of the two evils we hardly know which is the greatest. The one is more manifestly evil, but the other is more deeply wrong. The one offends the judgment of man most grievously, but the other may be more offensive in the sight of God. The one has most appearance of danger, the other may have more of the reality of danger; just as that disease is most to be dreaded, which does not betray itself outwardly, but marks the progress which it is making by slow and hardly perceptible decay. But in either case we see that of all God's creatures there is none more exposed to abuse than home; and in conformity with this, we invariably find that home, if it be not made the temple of the living God, becomes the temple of self. If it is not sanctified by the word of God and prayer, it is but like that swept and garnished house into which the spirit that had been once driven out entered, and where having once found admission, he brought in worse inmates than himself, till the last state of the man was worse than the first.

It is then by the word of God and by prayer, that home is to be protected from the dangers to which it is exposed; and family worship must be regarded as the great security for family peace, and for all domestic blessings.

We will assume this then as granted. No man who thinks seriously is likely to deny it, and we will infer the duty of Family-worship from its obvious necessity. Why then we may ask is it not universally adopted-and why where it is adopted, is it carried on in sich a manner as deprives it of its efficacy.

If it is not universally adopted, it is simply from this reason, that the world still retains its original character of enmity to God; and while it retains that character, must dislike every thing which reminds it of its dependence upon God, and is expressive of allegiance to Hini. There are many men capable of appreciating the comforts of home, and desirous to secure their possession, who still are unwilling to consider them as dependent on the blessing of God, or to receive them as derived from his bounty. Respectable and amiable, enlightened by education and refined in taste, they can understand the happiness of home, and can contribute to its enjoyment; but God is not in all their thoughts; they do not see Him in his works; they do not feel Him in his gifts; and they can

rejoice in the sun-shine of Christian practice, without recollecting the source from which that practice is drawn, and exult in the light of moral truth without remembering the mercy by which it has been shed upon their path.

But there can be no medium in our feelings towards God. He never can be a subject of indifference to man. He must be loved, or He must be hated; and though hatred may be cloked by apparent indifference, and man may affect a neutrality which he is not capable of feeling; occasions will be continually occurring when the truth will be brought to light, and the secret enmity of the heart will be disclosed. Of these none are more conclusive than such as present God to our view in the form of a benefactor, and require from man the acknowledgement of dependence and of gratitude. A cold abstract recognition of power, of wisdom, of truth man can admit; for he there seems to confess what cannot be denied; and to confess it without compromising his own dignity. But to admit that every blessing he enjoys is derived directly from God, and comes to him as the free gift of infinite love; this involves a humiliation which man while unconverted cannot endure; and he avoids a recognition which gives hin pain whenever it is repeated.

But beyond this, there is yet another hindrance, which is derived from the fear of the world; and men who have so far escaped from the power of the world as to feel that the world is wrong, and to shake off many of its practices, still retain so much of their old habitual subjection to it, that they dare not brave its ridicule. In this state they will admit that the practice in question is reasonable and right; they will wish that they had the spirit to introduce it; but the iron of their old fetters has entered into their souls; and with all their conviction of its expediency and necessity, they have not the courage to begin it. It is painful to think that this should be the case; but the fact cannot be doubted; and many are the families left destitute of this great security for domestic peace, through the base and cowardly in resolution which withholds their heads from proposing it.

But even when the effort has been made, the step been taken, and family prayer been made the practice of the household: it is not always, nay perhaps we might add, it seldom is what it ought to be. In many cases it is a mere service of formality. Destitute of warmth and feeling, it can hardly be called a reasonable service; and we know not what value to ascribe to it, or what good to expect from it, when it seems little more than a recog nition of dependence upon God, and a confession of allegiance.

In other cases, where we have reason to hope better things, there is the appearance of formality; a sort of studied absence of all that which bespeaks life in prayer, and marks the presence of the Spirit with those who pray; and this, as coming within the reach of argument, we are willing to advert to. There is an old French Proverb which says, No man is a hero to his Valet de Chambre. Like other proverbs, this may be true in general, but it is certainly often false. Heroism of the purest, noblest kind, may be witnessed by those who attend men in their weakest hours; and the grace of God may impart a consistency of character, a steady permanent fortitude and magnanimity, which the world has agreed to consider as impossible. But on the same principle as the French think, that no man will appear truly great to those who see him

when he is off his guard; we seem to feel that no man will appear a saint to those of his own household; and a man conscious of inc nsistency of behaviour, shrinks from an office which presents him to his family in a light which seems at variance with his general habits Oppressed by this conviction, he fears to yield to his own feelings. He tries to be cold, that he may not condemn himself! He contradicts his words by his gestures, and avoids the fervor which he ought to feel towards God, in order that he may not seem to be an hypocrite before men. This is but one of those melancholy dilemmas into which the double-minded and wavering continully fall; and like all such dilemmas must be put an end to without loss of time, by a more complete self-surrender, by determination in a work where all the blessedness belongs to decision, and all the difficulty to indecision; and where the work is accomplished at once, if it be but taken up with sincerity. Inconsistencies no doubt wil exist, for who can be exempt from them while in the flesh. There will be much to humble him who prays; nor is it unreasonable that he who professes to give utterance to the common confession of sins, should feel more deeply than others the weight of the transgressions he laments. But the most fearful inconsistency of all, the presenting ourselves before God with the language of the sinner, and the ap parent self security of the righteous; the asking for all we need, with the calmness of those who need nothing; this will at least be avoided; and if the judgment of man is risked, the judgment of God may be escaped.

Let these difficulties then be overcome; and it may be hoped that as a slight effort of thought proves them to be groundless, they may be overcome with ease by those who honestly attempt to do so; and then what a means of grace, what a source of peace and domestic comfort seems opened to the family! Whether we look to the direct effect, the answer promised to prayer, the promise repeated with assurance, when the number of those who pray is increased, and two or three are united in the work of supplication---or whether we look to the indirect effect, the effect produced by the employment itself on all who are engaged in it; and what can seem more conducive to their common welfare and their general happiness? Consider the indirect effect. A family, be it large or small, consists of individuals knit together by certain ties, some of which the word of God recognizes as the most sacred of which our nature is capable, and all of which are sanctioned by some express declaration of his will. The happiness of each depends almost entirely on the degree in which these ties are understood and yielded to; and yet such is the blindness and perverseness of our nature, we are continually forgetting the character of our connection, and endeavouring to weaken or to shake it off. Pride lurking in every heart is teaching all to require too much, or to concede too little; and if personal feelings cannot be brought to bear upon this dominant spirit, and beguile or subdue it, the strongest exercise of authority is needed in order to prevent an immediate disruption of the bond.

But it is the first effect of prayer to humble all; and because it humbies all, and makes all feel their dependence upon God, it takes away, at least subdues for a time, that pride which originates offence, and prompts

a wish for separation. Add to this, that the same process which subdues pride, subdues likewise every resentful, every unkind, every malignant feeling. Who can hate a man when he is on his knees? Who can condemn him, who is condemning himself? and who can retain a bitter or malicious feeling against one, whom he sees truly humbled before God in confession? On the other hand, who can rise from that act, the confession of sins, and not feel all desire of revenge overcome by the consciousness of his own need of mercy? Does he feel that he needs mercy; can he hesitate at shewing it? Does he hope that he has found mercy; can he refuse to others that which he has received himself from God? Does he believe that his Lord has forgiven him that great debt, which his sins had contracted; and can he hesitate at forgiving his neighbour also?

The same benignant influence follows from every other kind of prayer. If we desire that for which we pray, must we not regard every one who is united with us in prayer, as co-operating in the same work, as contributing to the accomplishment of our wishes, as our helper and supporter? While thus occupied in the same pursuit, while thus seeking the same thing, the interests of each become the interests of his neighbour; and prayer, which leads the hearts of all to God, withdraws them from those pursuits which separate man from man, and fixes them in that where alone they can be united without fear of competition.

Nor is the effect of family payer less marked with regard to other sins. The establishment of it is a pledge given by the family that it shall be their endeavour to live in every respect according to the will of God; and as they thus solemnly recognize their dependence on Him, they as solemuly profess their determination to do their best to please him. It is, therefore, the avowal of a resolution to avoid all ungodly practices, however countenanced by the world. It is an avowed intention to live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present world; and every head of a family, in making this a part of his domestic habits, seems to be repeating for himself and for those belonging to him, a determination like that which was uttered by Joshua to the assembled Tribes of Israel, "If it seem evil unto you to serve the Lord, choose ye this day, whom ye will serve. But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord."

And who can describe the sanctifying influence produced on all the members of a family by such a resolution announced and maintained by their federal head? Who can describe the protection which is thus cast over the innocence of childhood, the susceptibilities of youth, when religion is announced as the character of the household, and the name of God is written on its doorposts? Evil, no doubt, will still exist, but it will not venture to shew itself. A deeper process of sanctification will be needed in order to realise the purpose which has been announced; but that process can hardly be carried on unless it be thus cherished and protected. The Holy Spirit, the Sanctifier, must be found fulfilling his own specific operation in each individual, but He is most likely to be found where every thing that grieves is studiously removed; and where his presence and his aid are duly sought, in the word of God and in prayer. Y. S.

I always pity you, Alciphron, and particularly at the present season. The air of cheerfulness which so generally prevails, and makes even winter smile, must fill you with melancholy, when it reminds you of what you suppose to be the errors of your fellow-creatures. The village steeple, which from time immemorial has been accustomed to proclaim the message of glad tidings, must appear to you to usher in the reign of superstition: since bells repeat what the hearers think. No sight is more welcome to the eye than those knots of country people, as they wind among the hills which intercept the spire from our view, returning in family groups from the church where their fathers and forefathers have been long used to celebrate the assurance of God's good will towards men.

It brings a thousand delightful associations to my mind. You, the mean while, must be inwardly lamenting such idle commemoration of the origin of their bondage and their error. To-day, too, the sun itself re-appearing after a season of unusual gloominess and severity, assorts with the impressions on my mind. The clouds and darkness which had long shrouded the throne of God, seem suddenly dispersed ; the scene is lighted up and brightens; but yet it is the sunshine of winter still. For you, and such as you, who close your eyes against the light, and too many others who hate the light because their deeds are evil, spread a gloom over the distance, and like the patches of snow which lie unmelted on the hills, remind us that it is a wintry world after all.

You must at least thank me, he replied, for supplying a shade to your picture, which would otherwise, like many other creations of the fancy, be too bright to be interesting.

There is no fear, said I, of want of shade in any picture of religion in these days, when so many designing men are busily employed in dispelling every ray of remaining light from the minds of their countrymen, and every gleam of comfort together with it. But I suppose that these efforts, which most of us are wit nessing with alarm, or at least with horror, are a matter of satisfaction and congratulation to you. You seem to foresee the triumph of your principles.

By no means, answered Alciphron, I feel none of the gratification which you imagine. I have no objection to keep clear myself from the trammels of your uncompromising faith: but I agree with Voltaire, who found it dangerous to unsettle the minds of the common people. Revelation is an excellent invention of kings and priests to keep the lower ranks in order, and as such I esteem it, and am only sorry that they seem inclined to throw it off too soon. You have never known me to disseminate my opinions in the vulgar manner with which you have lately been disgusted. But there is no reason why I should blind myself, though

I may see an advantage in the blindness of others. And as you have introduced the subject, excuse my wondering that should still maintain a belief so irksome, you and at the same time so entirely without foundation, that the weakness of its support bids fair to become evident ere long to the lowest classes.

If the uneducated, said I, as you insinuate, are the most likely to be deceived by their priests and rulers, so are they likewise a more easy prey to the designs of artful demagogues, who are aware that religion is the strongest barrier against wickedness and disloyalty. Indeed the late attacks upon religion, beyond all others, are of a nature only to take an effect upon those who are either too idle or too ignorant to inquire. They are addressed to such, and they only prevail with such. As for nie, I trust that my path is taken, my course decided. I would not disbelieve if I could: and I could not if I would.

You have dropped the secret unawares, he replied, you would not disbelieve if you could, You dare not reject a system which seems necessary to you, because you imbibed it in your infancy, and it has grown up with you. People like to be deceived, and so they persevere in error till they think the error true: for arguments, like your Christinas bells, often reflect the thoughts of the hearer. And yet I am at a loss to understand how it is, that you would not disbelieve if you could. Do you find it so agreeable to lead a life of penance and mortification, and to be tortured with the dread of eternal misery? There are few of us who have [not great reason to thank those bold men, who have eased us of the heavy burthen of superstition. Volney and Condorcet, Goodwin and Paine, are justly entitled to the universal gratitude and applause of the human race. They have attacked error in its strongest holds: they have pursued it with a powerful and discriminating intellect. It has already lost half its force, and the philosophy which is denominated infidel, will ere long chase it out of existence.'*

You too, I replied, have dropped a secret unawares, the secret of your gratitude. Many no doubt have reason to be against the Bible, because the Bible is against them and are you sure that THEY are not the party who like to be deceived, and think their wishes true ? I hold it better to be wise in time, than to be undeceived when it is too late: and therefore I thank God, who has mercifully given me warning of this eternal misery, and still more, has opened to me the means of escape: so that if Christianity had but the remotest probability in its favour, instead of what appears to my mind absolute certainty, common prudence would lead me to embrace it.

This it is, said Alciphron warmly, to be the dupe of imposture! How hateful is this priestcraft, which first torments men with groundless fears, and then pretends to relieve them! This is the deep internal wound which superstition has inflicted on the bosom of society. The whole earth has been made the wretched abode of ignorance and misery, and to priests and tyrants these dreadful effects are to be attributed!'

This is the strange cant of the present day, I replied,

* Palmer's Principles of Nature, published by Carlile.

to refer the miseries of mankind neither to themselves and their own wickedness, nor to the established constitution of nature, but to the very religion which was sent to mitigate then. Do you observe that cottage under the hill by the road side; not a quarter of a mile off? A little smoke is just rising above the trees. There is enough of suffering, and enough of comfort in suffering under that thatched roof, to refute a thousand such assertions as that which you have just hazarded. It is inhabited by a poor widow and her only daughter. The mother is sunk almost to the grave by an incurable complaint, which has kept her for years in a state of constant pain, and sometimes of extreme anguish. Death has long suspended his hand over her, but still delays to strike.' I followed her daughter the other day, who had been collecting a few sticks to make a partial blaze, the only external comfort of which the poor woman is susceptible: and when I had thus found her out by accident, she told me her story. What my sufferings have been, Sir,' she said, 'is known only to myself and my God: but I rejoice in them, since I know that he will make all things work together for good to them that love him. Indeed I feel it to be so; and have said a thousand times, that a sick bed is a blessed thing: it brings us nearer to God, and God nearer to us. Often have I sat up in my bed at night, (for I can never sleep till the drugs stupify me, and they begin to lose their effect,) but often have I sat up and prayed to my Saviour, and meditated on his sufferings for me, till I have forgotten my own. My neighbours sometimes talk ignorantly, and wonder why God should afflict me so heavily, who have never been, so to speak, a wicked woman, though I know my own sinfulness-but I silence them, and say, that his ways are far above out of our sight;-it is good for me to have been in trouble, for I know in whom I have trusted; and that my light afflictions which are but for a moment, shall work for me a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.'

So here you have one distress, at least, which cannot be said to be caused by Religion: and probably this is one out of 50,000 similar cases existing in this single country.

That may be very useful to a sick and ignorant old woman, returned Alciphron, which is very unprofitable to the greater part of mankind.

To which I answered, I cannot easily believe that to be useful which is false and erroneous: or that to be false and erroneous, which supports those who have no other consolation, and gives wisdom to those who have no other learning. Therefore I argue that it would be the greatest possible misfortune, if the Religion which you so unjustly vilify could be proved an imposture.

Small hopes of that, replied Alciphron, whilst such an army of well-paid priests is leagued together keep up the deceit. Do you expect them to take the hood off the eyes of their own victims ?

You forget, I said, how many of their victims can see as well as themselves. So you have really been persuaded by Paine and his disciples to imagine, that a Christian ininister, for the sake of lucre, imposes on the credulity of his hearers a system of Religion which

he knows to be without foundation! I little expected an insinuation like this from any adversary less ignorant than Carlile or less vulgar than Paine. But to meet you here also. You forget that the benefices which engage your well-paid army to practise this baseness' average less than 300 pounds per annum: you forget how many follow their profession to the grave, without ever obtaining one of the lowest of its prizes. Would not the same education, ensure a much higher reward? Depend upon it, if the Clergy had no other than a temporal inducement to maintain the Christian faith, it would not continue twenty years. For example: Mr.- Curate of the very parish in which we are talking. He has two thousand persons under his care, who take up his time to the exclusion of every other concern, who occupy his thoughts even to the injury of his health, and make him a return of a hundred pounds per annuin: much less than he annually spends among them in charity. What inducement has he to preach a gospel which he does not believe? He has fortune enough to live at ease in retirement; he has talents which would raise him to eminence in any way of life which he chose to pursue; yet he prefers to serve God, and promote the highest interests of man in laborious obscurity: and what will you say to him; is he a deceiver, or is he himself deceived? If you argue that he is a deceiver, I ask what interest he has in deceiving: if you think that he is deceived, I ask whether his talents do not furnish a strong presumption the other way? He is one of the well-paid army which you speak of as interested in maintaining an error; and there are five thousand others of this country of the same body, who have as little or less worldly reason to bias then. Imposture is commonly more sharpsighted; and its objects more lucrative.

What answer Alciphron might have found to this, I know not: but it seemed to ine that he felt much relieved by the sudden appearance of a mutual friend, who just then came up, and put an end to our con

versation.

The Bookseller of Allerton, or Practical Piety
(Continued from page 168.)

DEVOUTLY, however, that evening did they thank God in their prayers for the mercy He had shewed them.

The next day was to be the last that Esther was to spend entirely at home, for some time; she busied herself, therefore, in doing all she could. That day, however, was to be the most eventful one almost of their lives.

Walters was sitting reading behind his counter, when the strange gentleman, who was evidently a clergyman, accompanied by one much younger, of the same clerical appearance, entered the shop.

"Mr. Walters," said the former, "I have been much pleased with some of the tracts, I got from you yesterday, I think them admirably adapted for distribution in this neighbourhood, where I fear much infidelity and carelessness, if not open hostility to religion prevails, and I have brought this gentleman, who is both tutor to my sons, and also my

curate, on whose judgment in these matters I rely more than on my own. Indeed I should be obliged to you to order a larger supply," he added, looking round the shop-"as I have no doubt we shall find them most useful assistants for us at present.

Walters bowed in mute surprise, and he was then informed that his new customer had just become the rector of that place, the incumbent of which had obtained a still better benefice. This alone was joyful tidings to Walters and Esther.

The good man who was now come among them, found much to be done in a town that had been so long neglected, where ungodliness and scepticism prevailed, and the truths of religion wereu nknown.

His first business had been to make enquiry as to the state of religion in the parish, and the result of these enquiries was a melancholy one. Infidelity among the working classes had made an awful progress, and its insidious or openly wicked publications were on sale in more places than one, while nothing that was pure, lovely, and of good report, appeared to meet his eye, until the sight of Walters' little neglected shop, was to him like the green refreshing spots, which the weary traveller in the desert discerns.

Since his visit there the preceding day, he had made enquiries about him and obtained such information as enabled him, (enemies themselves being judges),—to lay aside the caution he had observed, and address Walters as a Christian, while he felt for him as one, who to sense of right, had sacrificed not only his wordly interests, but all that seemed to be his means of support.

The Rector quickly saw into Walters' disposition, he perceived he was a man of much reserve, yet of keen feeling, there was something in his aspect, that while it spoke of poverty and disappointment, interested and made you feel he was enduring chastisement, not suffering the penalty of misconduct.

The Rector having told him how he was situated, while his Curate was selecting the tracts, concluded by saying

"Now Mr. Walters, I have thought you would be a likely person to assist me in adilemma in which I find myself. I cannot employ the person who acted as clerk to my predecessor, he has been represented to me even by people who are not very strict in these things, as by no means a proper person for such an office, and my own experience does not at all incline me to him; I therefore do not wish to engage him at all, even for next Sunday, and I scarcely know where to find a suitable person unless it is yourself; if you have no objection to the situation, you can manage your business also, and I will begin with a salary of fifty pounds a year."

A hectic hue overspread Walters' sallow countenance, he did not speak, he coughed, and turning suddenly round opened the side door, and begged the gentlemen would step into the parlour, to which

without waiting an answer he preceded them. They saw he was agitated, and with a glance at each other expressive of sympathy for him, they followed to the room, where Walters had just had time to let Esther understand that they were in some way the messengers of God, but how, he could not explain, by this movement he only sought to gain time, and directly withdrew by the other door leaving her to receive them. She saw the cause of this, and as with her child in one arm, she handed them chairs with the other, she said—

"My poor husband has had much anxiety, of late, gentlemen."

The Rector entered into conversation with her, and the interest he had felt for Walters was certainly not lessened by an acquaintance with his wife. Walters returned after some minutes, the proposal that had been made to him was then gratefully accepted, and tears flowed down Esther's cheeks on hearing what it was.

The next Sabbath Walters officiated as clerk, under some embarrassment naturally, yet surprisingly well on the whole, and quite to the approbation of the ministers, who were pleased to hear responses, that seemed to come from the heart, even if the want of practice caused an occasional mistake.

Both Esther and he had prayed that he might be enabled to fulfil the Sacred duties of his new office aright, and to remember that he was engaged in worshipping God, not merely in rehearsing a part before men.

Poor Esther's pride might have risen in her heart, as she waited at the side door of the church, to take the arm of the clerk of the parish and walk homeward; but there were other feelings awakened which kept down such as this. She had heard that day for the first time for many years the truths of the gospel preached from the pulpit, and dear was the sound of the gospel of Jesus to her ear, as its blessed influence had been to her heart.

That day they had no warm comfortable dinner, they were no more entitled to it they thought than they were the week before; their purse was still nearly as empty, although their prospects were better, but the loss of the crown had been the means of teaching Esther a lesson; they must not incur debt on account of brighter prospects. Thankful they were though as poor as ever, and perhaps no prosperous days ever witnessed a happier Sabbath.

Before the next week had quite expired the new Rector had found Walters of so much use to him, that in the opinion of the Reverend Henry Mellersh, the Curate, he was likely to become "the parson's right hand man," and most people know that nearly every town possesses one such person. Walters was not a bustling forward person, one whom you do not exactly like but cannot well do without: he never made himself subservient or obtrusive, he was quiet, respectful, yet always properly independent; his knowledge of the state of the Town saved the