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thyself, nor to walk in the commandments of God, and to serve Him, without His special grace." Let me ask you to mark attentively three words which are inserted in that pledge to which you are about to offer your name. The Matron pointed to the words, "God helping me.' My young woman, continued the same sweet voice, we insert those words because we would not have any one to make a resolution in their own strength; knowing full well that such resolutions are but rarely performed: we would have then this promise made in the strength of the Lord. Yes, she continued with gentle energy, and we would have you keep it in the strength of the Lord, we would have this pledge occur to your recollection in the hour of temptation; in that trying hour we would have an earnest, though it may be a silent prayer go up to heaven from the heart of every one whose hand has signed this written promise. I fear not to tell you that our gracious and merciful God will never fail to hear and to help those who seek to put themselves out of the way of temptation, and who, when they are unavoidably thrown into it, cry earnestly to Him for heavenly assistance. I pray, she added, that the Lord may cause the dew of His blessing to rest upon the few feeble words which I have spoken, that they may be as "bread cast upon the waters," that may be found" after many days "—Amen, said Mary Dalton in a low voice, as she took the pen which was presented to her by the Matron.

Kind lady, she said, when she had signed her name, I thank you very gratefully, I hope I have attended to your words, I hope I am indeed making this promise in the strength of the Lord.-I could go on to speak of Mary Dalton-I could tell how reluctantly she became housemaid in a family where the servants were permitted, and where every servant in the house availed herself of the permission, to have what they termed their "Sunday out"-I could tell how she was laughed at, and teazed, and persecuted, when it was found that she was not to be prevailed on to join them. I could tell how in her private devotions she prayed in sincerity and truth for strength to come off a conquerer. "Lord, hold thou me up," was her constant petition, and with all the holy, joyful confidence of a believing child of God, she added, "and I shall be safe."

Mary Dalton was a hard working and diligent servant, but I could tell how she found time never to let a day pass without reading, marking, and inwardly digesting, at least a few verses of the word of God, that food more necessary for the imperishable soul than is meat and drink for the perishing body. I could tell all this, and more than this, and I can ask without fear-without possibility of contradiction, did ever any thus ask, and not have, did ever any thus seek, and not find, did ever any thus knock, and it was not opened unto them? Oh, it is not our God who will not hear, it is our reluctant hearts that will not pray. Mary continued in the same family, until circumstances occurred to induce the master to leave England; her meek and cheerful, and obliging behaviour had won the hearts not only of her fellow servants, but also of her Master and Mistress. She left this situation with an irreproachable character. Mary Dalton once more entered the Servants' Home, and the sweet voice again spoke words of kindness and of love. Young woman, that gentle lady said, I am myself in need of a housemaid; are you willing to enter into my service? Mary curtsied, and with a countenance beaming with gratitude, and an eye lighted

up with pleasure, answered, "God helping me," I will try to become worthy of so happy a lot.

And here I close my short and simple narrative with a fervent prayer that He who can work by the weakest as well as by the strongest instrument, may be graciously pleased to cause the blessing to shine upon this humble offering; making it profitable to those female servants who are passing their young and active years of labour within the walls of my dear native city of Chester, by inducing them to admire the conduct of Mary Dalton and to " go, and do likewise."

Christian servants, you who are in reality what you profess to be, followers of the Lord Christ, and who are consequently leading a godly, righteous, and sober life, can I conclude without addressing a few words to you? No, I cannot, for it has occurred to me that some among you may perhaps say within yourselves why should I join this society? I am in a comfortable situation and not likely to be required to change it. I grieve over the ungodly practices which I cannot but know are going on among some poor mistaken young women, but I do not follow them. I do not enter into the path of the wicked, I avoid it, I pass not by it, I turn from it, and pass away. And as for play-houses and races and wakes, I thank my God, that for years past, I have been enabled to take no pleasure in such things, I cannot go to them now that I am the Lord's servant-Jesus Christ Himself has told me, and mine eye seeth it, and mine heart feels it, that I cannot serve God and Mammon. Yes, I understand what you mean by saying you cannot delight in such amusements now that you are in earnest serving your heavenly Master. The cannot, says a faithful pastor of a Christian flock in this city, and one too I may tell you, who takes no slight interest in the prosperity of the Chester Female Servants' Society," the cannot is only that the christian himself cannot consent-It is not only, he continues, you shall not on God's part, or I must not on the christian's part, but the servant of God feels, that the Lord says-if you really prefer my service, you cannot, you have no inclination to unite with it, one that is utterly and entirely opposed to me."-But wherefore, you say, need I to promise that which I already perform? Let me refer you to the fifth chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel, the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth verses; and then I will give you-not my observations on this passage of Scripture, but those of an eminent minister of Christ, long since entered into his rest. We ought most carefully and frequently, says Scott, to consider the vast importance of the Christian character, recollecting that we are salt of the earth, and the light of the world:" many eyes will be upon us, many will derive good or harm from their observations on our conduct. We should then endeavour to stem the torrent of impiety and wickedness, to diffuse the savour and light of divine truth, and “to adorn the doctrine of God our Saviour;" letting our light shine before men," that our good works, as living sermons, may convince our fellow sinners of the excellency of religion, aud to conduce to the glory of God, and the benefit of mankind. On this account also the Christian must by no means conceal his sentiments; for God does not enlighten the minds of his people, that they should put the light under a bushel, but that they should hold it forth for the benefit of others. Nor are they required, or even allowed, to retire into cloisters or deserts, or any secret recesses, or to bury themselves in obscurity; but to fill

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up their stations in families, in society, and in the church, so as to glorify God in the sight of men. We should therefore seek to shine, by professing and adorning the gospel, in our circle, whether large or small, that we may answer the end for which God has called us out of darkness into his marvellous light.

Let others then have the benefit of your example. A pious servant is not without influence. Some, it may be, will be stimulated to follow an example so well worthy of imitation, and although you are all the while aware that you are yourselves but unprofitable servants, and that your best services are nothing worth in the sight of God, yea, that your "righteousnesses themselves are but as filthy rags," yet surely love and gratitude to your foreiving Saviour will constrain you to rejoice in every opportunity of saying openly and d'ec'dedly, I an on the Lord's side.

COUNTRY LIFE.

Though we suppose it likely that the Christian Beacon is at present circulated chiefly in towns, and in the manufacturing provinces, we hope to bring before our readers in the agricultural districts of our native land, a series of papers on Country Life We would preface the subject by a sketch of rural life in the south of Scotland, written, we believe, by a friend whom we valued highly, in his preface to the Memoirs of a truly good and single-minded Minister of Christ. We recommend the account to the consideration of our honest English Farmers. We have known a few to whose household habits, with some slight variations, it might apply. But having lived much in Country Parishes in many parts of England, we are obliged to own that we have often thought of the homely, yet deeply interesting, account; and sighed when we contrasted it with the actual state of things in too many an English Farm-house.

"This valuable order of husbandmen constituted a very considerable proportion of the population, they were dis tinguished by frugal habits, simple manners, and an ardent regard for evangelical doctrines. In addition to a regular and exemplary attendance on the public ordinances of Divine worship, they faithfully performed the exercises of devotion in their families, and laboured, with patriarchal diligence, to instil into the minds of their children and domestics the principles of sound doctrine and a holy life. The strict and regular observance of the duties of family religion, appears to have been one chief cause of the high eminence in scriptural knowledge, in sobriety of manners, as well as in every domestic virtue, for which the northern part of Great Britain was then justly celebrated."

"The habitation of a Scottish husbandman in the southern counties, sixty or seventy years ago, was generally a plain substantial building, holding a middle rank between the residences of the inferior gentry and the humble cottages of the labouring peasantry. The farm-Louse, with the small windows of its second story often projecting through the thatched roof, occupied, for the most part, the one side of a quadrangle, in which the young cattle were folded; the other three sides being enclosed and sheltered by the barns, stables, and other farm offices. A kitchen garden stocked with the common pot-herbs then in use, and sometimes with a few fruit-trees, extended on one side, sheltered perhaps by a hedge of boortree or elder, and often skirted by a few aged forest trees; while the low, thatched dwellings of the hinds and cotters stood at a little distance, each with its small cabbage-garden, or kail-yard, behind, and its stack of peat or turf fuel in front.

"An upland farm, of the common average size, extending to about four or five hundred acres, partly arable and partly pastoral, usually employed three or four ploughs; and the master's household, exclusive of his own family, consisted of six or seven unmarried servants, male and te

male. The married servants, namely, a head shepherd, and a hind or two (as the married ploughmen were termed), -occupied cottages apart; as likewise did the cotters, who were rather a sort of farm retainers than servants, being bound only to give the master, in lieu of rent, their service at hay-time and harvest, and at other stated periods. The whole however, especially in remote situations, formed a sort of little independent community of themselves, deriving their subsistence almost exclusively from the produce of the farm. The master's household alone usually amounted to fifteen or twenty souls; and the whole population of the farm, or onstead, to double or treble that number: a number considerably greater, perhaps, than will now be commonly found on a farm of the same extent; but maintained with much frugality, and always industriously occupied, though not oppressed with labour.

"Little of the jealous distinction of ranks which now subsists between the farming class and their hired servants, was then known. The connexion between master and servant had less of a commercial, and more of a patriarchal character. Every household formed but one society. The masters (at that time generally a sober, virtuous, and religious class,) extended a parental care over their servants, and the servants cherished a filial affection for their masters. They sat together, they ate together, they often wrought together; and after the labours of the day were finished, they assembled together around the blazing fire, in the farmer's ha',' conversing over the occurrences of the day, the floating rumours of the country, or 'auld warld stories; and not unfrequently religious subjects were introduced, or the memory of godly men, and of those who, in evil times, had battled or suffered for the right, was affectionately commemorated. This familiar intercourse was equally decorous as it was kindly,-for decent order and due subordination were strictly maintained. It was the great concern of masters and mistresses, when new servants were required, to obtain such as were of sober and religious habits: if any one of a different character got in, his dismissal, at the first term, was certain. Servants in those days never" thought of changing masters, unless something occurred which rendered the change indispensable.

"At ordinary meals, the master (or good-man as be was termed,) took his seat at the head of the large hall table, the mistress sitting on his right hand, the children on his left, the men-servants next in station, and the maid-servants at the bottom,—one of the latter serving. The use of tea was then unknown, except in the houses of the gentry. Porridge was the constant dish at breakfast and supper; at dinner, broth and meat, milk, cheese, and butter. Twice in the year, exclusive of extraordinary occasions, there was a farm festival, in which every inhabitant of the place partook; namely, the kirn, or harvest home, at the close of autumn, and celebration of the new year. On these occasions, an abundant feast of

baked and boiled cheered the heart of the humblest labourer on the land, and was closed with decent hilarity by a cheerful beaker or two of home-brewed ale.

"But the religious order of the family was the distinguishing trait. The whole household assembled in the hall (or kitchen) in the morning before breakfast, for family worship, and in the evening before supper. The good-man, of course, led their devotions, every one having his Bible in his hand. This was the stated course even in seed time and harvest: between five and six in the morning was the hour of prayer in these busy seasons.

"On Sabbath all went to church, however great the distance, except one person, in turn, to take care of the house, or younger children, and others to tend the cattle. After a late dinner, on their return, the family assembled around the master, who first catechised the children, then the servants. Each was required to tell what he remembered of the religious services they had joined in at the

house of God: each repeated a portion of the Shorter Catechism; and all were then examined on heads of divinity from the mouth of the master. Throughout the whole of the Sabbath, all worldly concerns, except such as necessity or mercy required to be attended to, were strictly laid aside; and nothing was allowed to enter into conversation save subjects of religion.

"These homely details may perhaps seem, at first sight, calculated to corroborate, in some respects, the exaggerated notions which prevail in England respecting the religious austerity of the old Presbyterians; and readers, looking exclusively to the strictness of their discipline, their alledged 'proscription of all amusements,' the limited education, the want of books, and, above all, the want of refinement which, according to our modern notions, might be expected to be the necessary result of familiar association with menial servants,---may possibly picture to themselves a state of society altogether clownish, melancholy, and monotonous. Yet this would be a very false estimate of the real character and condition of the old Scottish tenantry."

The following scene in the sick chamber of a farm house is well suited, we think, for our Country Readers.

I never did harm to anybody.

"I feel very comfortable, God be thanked! for I never did any harm that I know of to anybody," said old Giles Dykes, as he lay on his bed, expecting his summons to the next world. But that is not what you rely upon, I hope, said I. O no! I trust that I have done a little good too. But I hope that you neither place any reliance there, I rejoined. No! he said, after a pause and a gaze at me, I look to the Lord. He is all mercy. And when a poor man like me has done his best in his poor way, he will be merciful. That is my belief. My good friend, I replied, I do not see, as far as you have now gone, any difference between your hopes and those of a heathen, and to consince you of it I will sift your notion of having done your best in your poor way, and of never having done harm to anybody. You can read. Yes, thank God! Then I see no reason why your way should have been poor, for you had the same guide as the best and richest, the rule of God's Word. And if you did your best you gave all the time that you could to the reading of that word, to the right understanding of it, to the taking the impression of it on your heart. And you regularly prayed for God's grace to enable you to do all this. You read, no doubt, at least a chapter daily, before going to bed, perhaps. Why I cannot say I did all that. But I love the Bible, and I believe it every word. When you love a thing, do you not always keep it as much as you can in sight, and before you believe every word of a book, at least in any available sense, must you not be well acquainted with it? Now I do not see a Bible anywhere in sight, I am quite certain from the way in which you speak that you are not very well acquainted with it. Where is your Bible? Yonder, he said, pointing with some confusion to a dark corner of I went, and found a heap of old books, and, as some were much of the size and appearance of a common octavo Bible, I opened them to see their titles. "Clater's Farrier," that is not it, I cried. No! no! Look lower down. I went three lower. No! no! Lower still. Only three remained. So with a shrewd guess I went to the lowermost. And it was the Bible, sure enough. My good friend, I said, I see you put in force the old proverb, of truth being at the bottom of the well. So this you call doing your best in your poor way? And now having convicted you of not having done your best, can you tell me of any good at all that you have done? What, do you take me for a bad man? I never did any harm to

the room.

You

anybody. We will see about that presently, I said. Meanwhile, can you tell me of any good that you have done? Why my neighbours will tell you that I am a peaceable man, and have done them many neighbourly turns, and have helped the poor to something comfortable now and then. There is Ralph Isaacs that I sent in a cart, and paid turnpikes and all, the other day to the Doctor, when he broke his leg. And how came he to break his leg? Why John Dickins broke it for him. And how? Why they were fighting. That is quite enough, I said. And did you tell him he had been wrong in quarelling and fighting, and had well deserved the wages he got? No. John was wrong. He took advantage of poor Ralph being in liquor. It was a shame for a sober man do such a thing. But Ralph is a spirited lad. I'm right glad he had his revenge. And so this you reckon among your works of Christian charity, do you? Do you think that Christ was in your heart when you did this? Do you count yourself among his blessed peacemakers? I will not ask you for any more instances after this. You must confess that the love of God and Christ was not the reason of your doing them. Why I might not be thinking of them at the time. But I do love them. Yes! just as you love your Bible. Now I tell you plainly that Belial was in your heart. And thus we have come to the end of your good. Now let us see if you have done no harm to anybody. According to these words your example should have been one of uniform strictness, so as never to have laid a stumbling-block in the way of anybody. never can have encouraged riotous amusements by your presence, you never can have made use of objectionable language, you never can have been seen but in a state of calmness and sobriety. Now indeed, sir, he here cried out, you are too hard. At this rate there is no such thing as a harmless man, within my knowledge. Well, then, I replied, you confess that your example has done some harm. How much I will now leave to your own conscience. But harm is done towards a neighbour not only by doing what we should not do to him, but also by leaving undone what we should do. Suppose a large property, left to a father, with the express order that he should both maintain himself in his proper station to the fulness of its requirements, and should educate his children accordingly, and take such care of the property, that it might descend to them and theirs unimpaired. But that the father, so far from looking after it, let it run to waste, and living in a disreputable poverty, brought up his children in corresponding ignorance and low station. What would you say of such a father? I should call him a wretched scoundrel, said Giles, with much warmth. I approve your sentence, said I. Now, have not you brought up a family? Yes, I have, four sons and three daughters. But some of them have plagued my heart sadly. And I will tell you why they have done so. God gave you a rich inheritance in putting you in possession of his Holy Word, together with ample means for understanding it, both to your own profit, and that of your children. But you never took the pains, as you confessed just now, to understand it even for yourself, much less for the instruction of your children. You let the inheritance run to waste, and brought up your children in beggary. Neither have your servants nor your neighbours benefited by you. Now answer me---have you done no harm to anybody? He stared at me in silence for some time, and then said, frankly and mournfully, Indeed, sir, I did not think of all this. You are very right, and I have been wrong. I thought I had done my work. I have been a bad, unprofitable servant. Would to God I could say that I had done no harm to many and many. Oh, may He have mercy on me! Pray with me, and pray for me, sir. I prayed the Lord to make a flame of this spark of the light of self-conviction, and then left him to his reflections on our conversation, with a joyful expectation of a much more satisfactory dialogue on the morrow.

Scripture Readings.

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Gen. iv. 7. "If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted? and if thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door, &c." The Hebrew word "hatah means both sin, and a sin offering, "rovetz" signifies "to lie or couch as a beast does ;" therefore the whole phrase "la pethah hatath rovetz" may be thus translated "a sin offering coucheth or lieth at the door," i. e. for thee to make atonement with.

Verse 13" My punishment is greater than I can bear," "gadol awoni mi-ueso" will admit of such translation as the following-"Is my iniquity greater than to be forgiven ?" awon in its strictest sense meaning rather iniquity than punishment, and neso to bear in the sense of to bear away, i. e. forgive.

Verse 15. And the LORD set a mark upon Cain, lest any finding him should kill him"-wa-yasem yehowah le-qayin oth, and Jehovah gave to Cain a sign, (i. e., worked some miracle to convince him) that any finding him should not slay him. Oth occurs also in the second verse of the tenth chapter of Exodus, where it clearly signifies miracles.

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Verse 23.-" For I have slain a man to my wounding, and a young man to my hurt." That is, "for wounding me," and "for hurting me," the pronominal affixes being taken passively as well as actively in the same manner be-dato, Isa. liii. 11, "by his knowledge" does not signify, by the knowledge he possesses," but, "by the knowledge of him; and hamaci " my violence" means a violence committed against me." Jer. li. 35. Verse 26.- "Then began men to call upon the name of the LORD."-chatal, when applied to sacred things, more commonly signifies, " to profane, to pollute, &c. as in Lev. xxi. 4, 9-so this passage may here mean, to call profanely. Some writers suppose it to mean, that believers, in order to distinguish themselves from idolaters, began to invoke God by the name of JEHOVAH: it being very probable that the name "Elohim" had become equivocal. being applied both by believers and idolaters to their respective gods. In the contest between Elijah and the prophets of Baal, 1 Kings xviii. Elijah saith v. 21, to the people, If Jehovah be God (Heb. "Ha-Elohim" the, i. e. the true Elohim), follow him: but if Baal, then follow him. Chap. vi. 3.---And the LORD said, My Spirit shall not always strive (or rule, direct, yadon) in man.

Verse 6" and it repented the LORD." In this, and several other passages, God is said to repent (nachem) when he acts in such a manner as men do when they repent or alter their designs, and consequently changes his method of proceeding; though in truth He changeth not, but his creatures. See Num. xxiii. 19; and compare 1 Sam. xv. 11, with ver. 29.

(Verse 14,)" make thee an ark." The Hebrew word for ark (tevath) is only used in scripture for the ark of Noah in this passage; and for that in which the infant Moses was preserved Ex. ii. 3. 5.---About the beginning of the last century, Peter Jansen, a Dutch merchant, caused a ship to be built for him answering in its proportions to those of Noah's ark, the length of it being one hundred and twenty feet, the breadth of it twenty, and the depth of it twelve. At first this was looked upon as no better than a fanatical vision of this Jansen, and while it was building Jansen and his ship were made all the sport and laughter of the seamen, as much as Noah and bis ark could be. But afterwards it was found that ships built in this fashion, were, in the time of peace, beyond all others, most commodious for commerce, because they would hold a third part more, without requiring any more hands, and were found far better runners than any made before. Accordingly, the name of NAVIS NOACHICA is given by some to this sort of vessel.---Parker's Bibliotheca Biblica, Vol. i. p, 235, 236.

Errata in last No. Gen. i. 4. for "Kindles," read Kindlers.
Gen. iii. 20. (Kot-hai) read Kol-hai.

The Christian's Beacon.

WHEN wind-girt storms, with loud, and sullen roar,
The heaving bosom of the Ocean swell,

And angry breakers, foaming o'er the shore,
Of perils on the troubled waters tell;

When, as around the shades of night are spread,
Wrapt in the sable mantle of the clouds,
Deep pealing thunders roll above the head,
And vivid lightnings flash along the shrouds;
Oft will the sailor's iron-bound spirits fail,
As, to and fro, he walks the reeling deck,
Lest, tempest-tost---the sport of ev'ry gale---
His vessel strike---and split, a stranded wreck!
In such an hour---fraught with the liveliest fear...
A light streams forth---behold! yon Beacon blaze
Beckons the ship, and tells a Port is near,
Bearing aloft the hope of brighter days.
Thus, when the Christian, in life's troubled tide,
Rides 'mid conflicting storms upon the wave,
His wakeful thoughts pursue some steady guide,
From rocks and shoals his wandering bark to save.
What light from Pharos e'er revolv'd so true,
As God's own Word? the safest and the best---
That Sacred Beacon, opening on the view,
Points to the haven of ETERNAL REST!

LUKE XXIV. 17.

J. H.

"And he said unto them, What manner of communications are these that ye have one with another, as ye walk, and are sad?"

What! Christian brows with sadness shaded!
What! Christian hearts in grief bow'd down!
Has Heaven's reserved heir-ship faded?
What man hath ta'en thy crown?
Shall Christian lips give voice to sorrow?
To live is Christ-to die is gain.
Do cares the Christian's temples furrow?
"There shall be no more pain."

Well may their grief astonish Thee,
O Prophet, Priest, and King;
Who robb'd the Grave of victory,
And took from Death its sting.

O were our faith more firmly rooted,
O were our love more like Thine own;
Our base alloy would be transmuted,
Our dross refined down.

But since not yet thy children's weakness
Can wholly feel all tidings "glad;"
Return, Oh Lamb of Love and meekness,
When we "walk, and are sad."

THE BIBLE. Lines written in 1746.

Y.

Hail, sacred volume of eternal Truth!
Thou staff of age! thou guide of wandering Youth!
Thou givest the weary rest, the poor man wealth,
Strength to the weak, and to the Lazar health-
Lead me, my King, my Saviour, and my God!
Through all those paths thy sainted Servants trod;
Teach me thy twofold nature to explore,
Copy the human, the Divine adore,
Give me to know the medium of the wise,
When to embrace the world, and when despise ;
To want with patience, to abound with fear,
And walk between presumption and despair;
Then shall thy blood wash out the stain of guilt,
And not in vain, for even me, be spilt.

LONDON: PUBLISHED BY SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, & Co.; HAMIL
TON, ADAMS, & Co.; AND R GROOMBRIDGE; BANCKS & Co.
MANCHESTER; H. PERRIS, LIVERPOOL; J. SEACOME, CHES
TER; WRIGHTSON & WEBB, BIRMINGHAM.

T. THOMAS, Printer, Eastgate Back Row, Chester.

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"I HAVE long wished to see you," said the Pastor to a young man, who was passing the door of his study with light but quick steps. The young man stopped, but he looked uneasy. "Come in," said the Pastor, " and sit you down. I have sent several messages to you, but you have been prevented coming, I suppose" The man murmured something about press of business, being much occupied. "I wished to see you," said the Pastor. "I have a book for you, one which I promised to get for you." The man, who was a Whitesmith, and had been at work in the house, put down his basket of tools. He looked as if he did not quite understand what the Pastor meant; in fact, he did not wish to understand, he had no desire to prolong the interview, but he could not refuse to take the book which was so kindly and courteously held out to him. "Is it a religious book, Reverend Sir," said the man, and his manner was confused, though respectful. "I did offer to lend you religious books at any time," replied the old Clergyman, "but this is not a religious book. It is the life of a very wise man and a very good man. The life of a Philosopher, and one of the greatest Philosophers that ever lived." The man opened the book, and looked earnestly upon the title page. "The name of Sir Isaac Newton is one of the

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highest in philosophy and science, is it not?" asked the Pastor. Indeed it is, Sir, and I am sure I feel truly obliged to you for such a present." "Do you remember," said the Pastor, "my talking to you of the humility of heart that distinguished some of the wisest of mankind? My recommending to you," he continued mildly, but gravely," that same disposition of heart? for, my friend, I think it right to be plain-spoken with every one. It too often happens, that according to his ignorance, a man is self-opinionated and presumptuous, while the truly wise are as often the most lowly in their own eyes. Now I do not apply what I say about ignorance to you, for God has given you superior abilities, but I have often wished to see some sign of a more humble heart. It was on account of some passages in that volume, that I wished to put it in your hands. Will you open it at the place where it is marked? The remarks in that passage were made by the great Philosopher a short time before his death. I do not know what I may appear to the world; but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the sea-shore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble, or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me.'"

"Now that which this man of first rate genius looked upon as the great ocean of truth, with its vast depths un

RECTOR OF

ST. PETER'S, CHESTER.

[PRICE 3d.

discovered and unfathomed before him, is to many of our modern pretenders to philosophic wisdom, merely shallow water, and as for employing themselves with the shells and pebbles on the beach, they will boast to you that they have been successful pearl-divers, though they have brought up nothing but mud and rubbish in their hands. But to drop this figure of speech," said the aged Pastor, "I may tell you at once, that I am amazed at the presumptuous ignorance of the Owenites, or Socialists, and grieve to the heart to learn that you are one of them. Is it so? is it the truth that you have joined those deluded men? If you have gone so far as to enrol yourself among them, tell me the truth, that I may know how to address you. If you are one of them, you can have no fear of God before your eyes, and you will not scruple to declare your opinions to me.

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Well, sir," said the man, and he looked the Pastor resolutely in the face, "it is of no use telling a lie, I am a Socialist. I desire to see, and to promote a new order of things. You must agree, sir, that every thing is out of order in the world around us, and needs to be reorganized. Society, in all its ranks, is corrupt." "Here we are agreed," said the aged man. σε Νο one, I will venture to say, is more deeply convinced than I am that things in the moral world are in a fearful state of disorder, that the state of society is corrupt, that we need a new moral world; but what would you think of a body of men if they were to rise up and declare publicly, that because the physical world in which we live is out of order, because parts of the earth are barren, and because savage beasts and poisonous reptiles are to be found upon its surface, they had drawn up a scheme for melting, or otherwise dissolving the elements of earth and air and water, and then reorganizing them into a new physical world? What would wise and scientific men think of such a scheme for the improvement of the material world? How would they estimate its wisdom or its possibility? But a plan of this kind would be about as reasonable as the schemes of those who are for constructing a new moral world. Where have these Socialists gained their wisdom? What is the date of their experience that they are fitted for the work? I find, however, the leader of your party thus pompously announcing his pretensions; I have proceeded, step by step, until the most important laws of our nature were unfolded, for I early perceived that a knowledge of these laws would soon unveil the three most formidable prejudices that ignorance of these laws had made almost universal. These pre

judices arising from early education are distinct, or as he afterwards calls them, conflicting religions, in

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