park. Mr. Arnold walked off to the West end of the Town to call on some of his friends, and Thomas Arnold gallopped off also by the New Road to the Park. They returned home through the dark and silent streets to dinner. In the evening a sermon was read by Susan or Julia, to which Mrs. Arnold alone attended. Thomas often got out of the way, and Mr. Arnold yawned or fell asleep, and shook himself as soon as the sermon was over, and then took up the newspaper, as if heartily glad to have done with so irksome a duty. quence of the course of life at Squire Burton's. The company talked, and eat, and drank eagerly, and roared with laughter. But, here were a set of decent, quiet, grave gentlemen, getting solemnly and stupidly drunk. I was quite surprised by the particular affection which one gentleman took for every one around him, he would lean across the table and shake hands with me, as he told a long and tedious story, in which every now and then he quite forgot what he meant to say, and stared at me with his mouth open, but he was interrupted by a song, such a song! Love, and honour, and woman, were each eulogized, or I should say each insulted in vile rhyme. The song ended, and the singer bowed his head, as if affected by the sentiments which he had himself expressed. "By Jove, how fine" exclaimed the young solicitor; and he was not alone in his opinion, a sudden and rapturous enthusiasm seemed to kindle in every countenance, and expressions of delight burst forth all round the table. I was appealed to by my neighbours on each side, as if the delight they felt was too exuberant to be restrained. One old gentleman melted into tears, and sat speechless, either from excess of wine or of feeling. I judged of the latter, when I beheld the large tears roll out from his swimming eyes, but a moment afterwards a long deep hiccough undeceived ine. I must own that I now began to feel indignant at the absurdities of those about me. I knew that many of those very persons, who in their sober senses, would have laughed to scorn the slightest expression of innocent, and I may even say noble enthusiasın, were now lifted up by a mere sensual excitement, to a state of idiotic rapture. I soon became more and more heartily out of humour, as my companions grew more and more drunk, particularly when about midnight the gentlemen stumbled up to the drawing-room. All the ladies looked either cross or grave, and Julia and her sister had already retired to bed. I remember being struck with seeing the young solicitor attempting Mrs. Arnold, and we were soon after ushered by to return to his former conversation with the lady who had listened to him before with so much interest and pleasure. He now could scarcely balance himself as he stood before her, and though she looked up with an expression of much attention, he could not make himself understood, and at the end of his attempt to make himself understood was his emptying a cup of hot coffee over her delicately white dress. On Of all days in the week the Lords Day was always the dullest in Mr. Arnold's family; at that time, I scarcely knew why, I only knew that it was so. Sunday morning every one rose later than usual. We Went to morning service at a church where the prayers were carelessly read, and the organ vilely played to screaming charity children, and a short sermon preached, which was so utterly without interest, so dull, and so heavy, that it was as tedious as a very long one. The Congregation consisted of a sprinkling of sober looking persons, who instead of kneeling during the service, generally lolled back in their pews, and seemed to be glad when the time came for them to walk out of the church again. After church we met at luncheon, and then separated till dinner. The carriage rolled away with Mrs. Arnold and one or both of her daughters, either to pay visits, or to idle away the hours in Hyde The Sunday before I removed to my lodgings, Mrs. Arnold declared her intention of going, after church, to pay a visit to an Aunt of her's who resided in the neighbourhood of London, I had heard but little of Mrs. Aspen, and I soon found by the remarks of her younger relations, that she must be a very repulsive sort of personage. When the carriage came to the door, Mrs. Arnold asked, in vain, who wished to accompany her? Susan was really unwell, and could not go. Julia said she could go, if her mother desired her, but that if the choice were given her, she would cer tainly rather stay at home, dull as home was, than go to that gloomy house. Thomas would willingly have gone, but he had promised to meet his friend, Sir Charles Preston, in the Park, at three o'clock. Mr. Arnold had already gone out. "Well then, I suppose, I must go alone," said Mrs. Arnold, "unless," turning to me, as she spoke, "you, John, will go with me." I could not say no," " and I went. I remember yawning as we stopped at the door of Mrs. Aspen's house. Her abode was an old red-brick mansion, with a profusion of narrow casement windows. A small court-yard paved with flag-stones, before which were high iron gates, divided the house from the road. The door was opened by a thin, tall old man, with a peculiarly long solemn countenance. He made a low bow on perceiv him into the presence of Mrs. Aspen. At the farther end of a large apartment, furnished just as rooms were a century or two ago, sat the old lady in a high-backed ebony chair. A little girl was sitting at her feet on a low stool, reading aloud from a small quarto bible, which lay on her lap. "There, that will do, little Miss," I heard the old lady say as we entered. Sthe took the bible very gently from the child, and placing it on the table near her, took off her spectacles, and and laying them quietly on the open book before her, she advanced to Mrs. Arnold. She curtseyed slightly, and then leading her friend to a chair, kissed her cheek and sat down beside her. "How do you do, my love?" said Mrs. Arnold, to the little girl, and I could not help smiling, when little Millicent made a low curtsey. But I was pleased with the blush that spread over her face, as she looked up, and with the sweet but very mild voice, with which she enquired after Julia and Susan. I was then introduced to the old lady, who received me with much form. Millicent, at Mrs. Aspen's desire, shook hands with me, and while the two ladies were conversing, she shewed me Calmet's Dictionary of the Bible, and some large books full of prints on scripture subjects. I was much struck by the appearance of this little girl, who seemed to have no companion but her grandmother. Her manner and her language were like those of a grown up and well educated person, and her dress was uncommon, and unlike that of most persons of her age, indeed it rather resembled one of the portraits of her grandmother or great aunts, painted in their childhood, which adorned the room, where I first saw her. With all her primness of dress, however, there was a total absence of personal affectation, the little girl seemed artless and good tempered, and was certainly very obliging. We remained nearly two hours with Mrs. Aspen, and I could not help frequently listening to her conversation with Mrs. Arnold. "I almost wonder to hear you speak of it as a dull day," the old lady exclaimed," pardon me, my dear Mrs. Arnold, but I must say, I did not suppose that you found the Sabbath so dull a day. You are not ignorant, I think of the enjoyments of religion. I know that you have many hindrances in your family, too many, for though your husband is a great favourite with me, he thinks of little beyond this world. I have not scrupled to tell him so. I fear that religion in many families is rather known by a few unpleasant restrictions, than felt as the inspiring spirit of life, and joy, and peace. It has been said, that the way in which the Sabbath is kept, may be inade the test of the real state of religion in a family. I am not surprised, that with many it is the most irksome day of the week. What can be more tedious to a mind that has no holy dread of sin, no delight in prayer, or in the prospects of happiness beyond this world, than to be not only without employments, but without amusements. If the mind cannot find employment and delight in spiritual pursuits on the Sabbath, and has yet too strict a sense of the demands of the Most High, to give itself up to its usual wordly occupations, then indeed the Sabbath must be a weariness to it. I can only compare its state to that of person, who has set his feet within the boundaries of land of celestial enjoyments, but who turns away from the contemplation of them, who will not even taste and see how full of delight they are, but who stands looking back with anxiety, and sighing for the poor pleasures of the land he has left. Depend on my words, my dear friends, you will not find the yoke of Christ easy till you try to wear it. You will not find the services of the Lord a joyous freedom till you seek to love Him, with all your heart, with all your mind, and with all your soul. Certainly the Lord's day should not be made a dull and gloomy day. The countenance should be more cheerful, the heart more contented, than on any other day. The day on which God rested from the work of the creation, and which He sanctified, should be a day of calm happiness. The day on which Jesus Christ rose from the dead, and triumphed as the son of man over sin and the grave, should be a day of grateful adoration. The meaning of the word Sabbath, is rest, and we should endeavour to look upon the Sabbath as the figure, and its peace as the foretaste of the eter nal rest which is reserved for the people of God. The temper and tone of mind must be acquired here, which begin the enjoyment of heaven, or there can be no fitness for heaven hereafter. And as to the commandment, you must agree with me, my dear friend, that "Remember to keep holy the Sabbath day," stands unaltered and unrepealed on the Holy Tables of the moral law. The ceremonial law of the Jew, has been fulfilled and done away. The moral law is no longer the covenant between God and man, but it is still our standard of life, our rule and conduct, and Heaven and earth must pass away, before one tittle shall pass from that law. AN APOLOGUE.* The rainy season had left a large pool in the desert close upon the banks of the mighty river Euphrates. In a day or two it's waters settled into the most limpid clearness, and gently ruffled with the wind, and reflecting the blue sky, it promised most agreeable refreshment to the thirsty neighbourhood. Accordingly, attracted by both novelty, and also wishing to save themselves the trouble of going farther to the river, a troop of wild asses made it their watering place. For many days it supplied them to their hearts content. At length, however, the sun began to have a visible effect. It grew more and more shallow, and its waters more and more tepid, until, one day, the whole troop of wild asses, disappointed and disgusted, pawed up the muddy bottom, and rolled in the tepid waters, and having reduced it to the state of a foul puddle, deserted it. In a few days more it was dried up, and its place could no more be found. Meanwhile the broad, deep, unpolluted Euphrates again became the watering place. derstanding sets up for truth. And for a while they are Like to this pool are all the systems which human unresorted to as the wells of true knowledge. The deep, clear, and never-failing stream of the Gospel is deserted paradox. They are found to be more and more shallow, for them by the lovers of idleness and novelty, and and at last are rejected in disgust and contempt, and vanishes away. The Gospel is again sought, and is found to be the only true stream of the waters of life, and on it flows from age to age, from land to land, administering to generation after generation, from its inexhaustible springs of heavenly truth, joy, and comfort. We received the above Apologue from a highly valued friend, and we give the following extract from the letter which accompanied it. The following Apologue has just come into my head. Perhaps something may come into your head to point and extend the application, and show how the Owenites are wild asses. We find, as a case in point, the following account in The Christian Spectator, which, however, had reached us before it appeared in print. At the Annual Meeting of January, a deeply affecting fact was relat d of a man who the Religious Tract Society, in Birmingham, the 22 of had once been a Sunday School Teacher, but had been ensnared by the principles of Socialism. "These," he said, "made me more like a devil than a man." During his last illness he returned to the "Fountain which was opened for sin and for uncleanness.” # 66 Apologue, a Fable or Story contrived to teach some moral truth." "You have been used to 'take notice of sayings of dying men," said Matthew Henry, not long before he entered into that rest which remaineth for the children of God. "This is mine: that a life spent in the service of God, and communion with Him, is the most comfortable and pleasant life that any can live in this world." Hints to the Upper Classes on Race-going. To the Editor of the Christian Beacon, REVEREND SIR,-As the season for the annual races in this city with their accompanying scenes of ungodliness and dissipation is fast approaching, I feel desirous, through the medium of your Christian Beacon, to address a few words of affectionate, though at the same time most solemn warning to a certain class of persons, who, from thoughtlessness or want of due reflection are in the babit of countenancing these meetings with their presence. One word only, in passing, to the avowed votaries of pleasure to those who in the full enjoyment of youth and spirits would, perhaps, sneer at the serious caution of more experienced friends, as arising solely from their inability to enter into such amusements with the keen relish of former years, and would thus furnish themselves with an additional argument for "making the best use of the short time before them." The writer of this (and his years are not many) has tried the same experiment that they are now trying-of seeking for happiness in scenes of worldly amusement. Naturally possessing a high flow of animal spirits, I eagerly sought for pleasure in the theatre, the ball-room, the opera, the hunting field, and the racecourse; and all that I ever gained from these pursuits, and dearly has this experience been purchased, was momentary excitement, attended with great elevation of spirits for the time, and how wretched generally was the reaction on the morrow ;) but happiness or rational enjoyment I never found-no, not for an hour. But I am not now addressing myself to persons of this description, but to those of whom "we hope better things," who profess themselves really anxious to keep their garments unspotted from the world, and who therefore should receive with thankfulness any advice that may be calculated to preserve them from inconsistency in their Christian walk. Now to deal plainly and honestly with you, my friends, I tell you at once, that your attendance upon the races is totally inconsistent with your profession, which I trust will appear from the following remarks; and for the sake of perspicuity just let us consider (1), the pernicious effects produced by them on your own minds; and (2), the demoralizing indence on all who are brought into contact with them. 1. The moral effect which is necessarily produced in your minds by attendance on such scenes is in the last degree dangerous. Perhaps you have never considered the subject in this point of view before, but have been accustomed to reason in somewhat of the following manner. You are convinced that the human mind must not always be kept on the stretch, that innocent recreation is absolutely necessary to the preservation of its healthy tone: and moreover, occasional intercourse with our friends and neighbours is not only a very rational pleasure, but a positive obligation; and, therefore, you settle it with your conscience that you ought to go to the races, and to the races you go. Now your premises are admirable, but your conclusion is woefully false. The races are bot a species of innocent recreation, and this is the point in which the whole strength of your argument lies. Turn for a moment to the word of God; it represents the state of the Christian here as one of trial or probation, a constant unabating warfare with Satan and the world—a race, in which those who would win the prize must be constantly striving after and pressing forward to higher degrees of holiness and virtue than those to which they have hitherto attained; and the best safeguards against failure-we are told, are constant vigilance, sobriety, and prayer. Now ask your own conscience whether your attendance on the race ground is in accordance with these directions of the sacred oracles of God. What is there in the atmosphere of the place, in the character of the majority of those present, in the general tone of the conversation, always frivolous, if not something worse, that is likely to promote spirituality of mind, or to aid your advance in holiness of heart and life? As Christians apply the apostolic injunction, "pray without ceasing," as a test for ascertaining the propriety of your conduct. Dare you offer up a prayer to God immediately before repairing to the racecourse for his blessing on your proceedings there, and for his special protection and guidance during the day? I think you dare not---and when on the ground, in the noise, the bustling gaiety and excitement of the passing scene-... would you not deem the very idea of raising your heart to him in prayer a solemn mockery of religious worship? You must confess that you would---and this very confession proves that to you the attendance on such scenes can no longer be innocent; for whenever, be it only for an hour, you cease to live in the spirit of prayer; you have quitted that high vantage ground, which, as Christians, you are privileged to occupy, and are come down to cope in your own strength with enemies far too strong for you; and though you may not be inclined to believe it at the time, you are helping to strengthen that dangerous love of worldly things, which is a natural principle in our desperately wicked hearts, and are creating a distaste for all the rational employments of life, but especially for those spiritual exercises and devotions which are inseparably connected withthe Christian profession. And these impressions, faint and imperceptible as they may be at first, must in the nature of things be strengthened by every repetition of them, till they terminate in settled habits of worldliness and irreligion. (2.) But if you are startled by the strong light in which I have thus set before you the dangerous effects arising to yourselves, you will be induced to think me an unwarrantably severe censor. When looking to the demoralizing results produced by these amusements on society at large, I accuse you of countenancing and encouraging vices which have ruined, and still are ruining many thousands of immortal souls. I do, however, make the charge advisedly and deliberately. Many of you, particularly those of the gentler sex, may not indeed be brought into contact with the things to which I am alluding. You drive in your carriage to the stand, see and converse with your friends on the news or "fashionable scandal" of the day, make a few trifling bets, just to create, as you say, a little innocent (?) excitement in the passing scene, and then return home. But what is going on around you? Turn to the betting-ring, where are congregated all the noble and fashionable supporters of the turf; there are thousands and ten thousands of pounds rapidly changing owners, and sums of money, which if distributed in judicious and discriminating charity, might go far, with the blessing of heaven, toward ameliorating the temporal and spiritual distitution of those around us, are daringly risked on the event of a horse-race. What shall we say to the cruelty towards the noble animals themselves? or the moral cruelty towards the riders, who, from the temptation of the large sums which they receive, voluntarily submit themselves to a most unnatural and unhealthy abstinence during one part of the year, to be succeeded by excess and intemperance during the remainder. Nor have I yet done with this painful subject. Reflect, before you again join in these amusements, on the ruinous temptations you are throwing in the way of the lower orders, on whose moral condition, whether for good or evil, the influence that you exercise is almost unlimited. Little, perhaps, do the great and the noble, as they roll along in their splendid equipages, and intent only on the pleasures of the moment, think of the misery, and domestic discord, which they are the indirect means of introducing into the hitherto happy cottage of the honest mechanic, or hard-working labourer; tempted in an unlucky hour to witness the amusements of the day, he is easily led to join some more designing companions in the exciting speculations of the petty gambling tables, with which the place abounds, and being well plied with spirits by the "liberality of his friends," he too often leaves the ground, to return to his family dependent on him for support, without a farthing of his wages; and this course once begun, it is easy to foresee the probable result. Many a once respectable family can trace their ruin and disgrace to such commencements as these. I have neither time or inclination to enter into the detail of some of the more revolting immoralities which often disgrace the raceground. Let it, however, be remembered, that this too, as well as all other places of exciting amusement and dissipation, is the resort of the most abandoned characters of both sexes, in hopes of finding opportunities of pursuing with advantage their degrading professions; by your attendance on these occasions you are investing with the appearance of outward respectability all that is immoral and unchristian in its nature; and persons of the most unimpeachable honour, and the most scrupulous delicacy are the unsuspecting patrons of those vices in others, from the bare imputation of which in themselves they would shrink with the most unaffected horror. In the sincere hope that these plain remarks may not be without their use, allow me to subscribe myself A SINCERE FRIEND TO INNOCENT RECREATION. It is good for Trade. Reverend Sir,-I am an old-fashioned man-one of the old school, and I heartly dislike what is expressively called "cant", whether among religious professors, or indeed wherever I meet with it. There is a species of cant which I would here protest against most earnestly-the watchword of some persons, the excuse ever uppermost is this, It is good for trade. The assertion is turned into a knock-down argument against the expostulations and the restrainings of conscience, against the plain sound wisdom of the word of God, and in the very face of common everyday experience. When the public house and the beer shop are kept open in defiance of the laws of the land, and the laws of fair dealing with regard to every honest neighbourwhen an attorney's clerk, such a youth as was lately sentenced to transportation for defrauding his master, or a shopboy saunters into some low tavern, and calls for his cigar and his glass of brandy and water, and tosses down his payment in silver night after night, and week after week, and month after month, with what kind of feeling is it that the master or mistress of the said tavern gathers up the stolen money? and how is the misgiving, or the suspicion stifled, that all is not right, that there is a till in the counter, or a desk in the office, where that boy is employed, which has furnished the silver in the receiver's hand---then the whisper of conscience is answered with the whisper, Well, well, it may not be quite right or quite fair, but It is good for trade-We must live. Sir, you have lighted up a beacon fire against Socialists or Owenites and Unbelievers, but if I remember you said in your introduction paper, "It will be our object to look round the whole horizon of society, and wherever we see mischief coming, wherever we see Irreligion, Infidelity or Vice invading the land, the world shall have notice given, the sleepers shall be awakened, the weak shall be told to fly, the bold and the manly shall be called out to resist the enemy, and to protect themselves." Speak out, Sir, and speak up to another class, a very large and a very common class.-those who make no profession of unbelief, but while they bear the name of Christians, live without God in the world. Whose religion is gathered up from the idle prejudices, and the loose moralities, which float on the surface of worldly society. You will find among them, not only youths, but grown up men, and grown old men, as trifling, as foolish, and as profligate, as any of the thoughtless youths in their employ. Masters, Masters, be consistent yourselves, set a good example, or do not dream that your good advice will be attended to! Now, Reverend Sir, who is to speak to these persons, if you and your fellow ministers do not? Don't be afraid of them.-Don't be afraid of consequences They may be angry with you, however courteous, however kind you may be in the spirit and they manners of your expostulations and reproofs, the may look shy or sulky when you meet them face to face, and abuse you in good set terms behind your back, but they will respect you, and perhaps after all their anger and insulting abuse, they will attend to you, that is, if you are consistent. Reverend Sir, I beg your pardon, I call myself to order, I am doing what no man in my place has a right to do, preaching to a preacher, but you will be so good as to pardon me, you know what I mean, and what I wish. You will not take offence when I had no wish to take a liberty. Readers, I may speak to you, If you call yourselves Christians, stand forth boldly, and let it be seen that you act upon a priuciple of Christian manliness. When a question of downright principle is concerned, have nothing to do with expediency. Is the thing right, or is it wrong? that is the real question, and when the fact is known, then either do what is right, or if you determine on the opposite course, if you will do what is wrong, be manly about it. Don't talk of expediency, don't say It is good for trade, or we must live-Remember we must also die, and after death comes the settling of accounts with the final judge, and the full conviction of defaulters. "It is better," said a poor flatman upon one of the canals in this country, who threw up his employment at the apparent risk of his livelihood, because he would not profane the Lord's Day, "It is better to want bread on earth than to want water in hell." The fact, however, is that godliness has not only the promise of the life which now is but of that which is to come. The great body of facts on the subject prove the truth of this remark. When it is not so, however, it is proof that the sufferer is highly honored by God," for whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom He receiveth." Let then your address to the great Giver of all be like that of the Christian Poet, "Give what thou wilt, without thee we are poor, Dr. Owen has well said, "Gifts are given to trade with for God"-" opportunites are God's market days.”—Re member this, and as a steward use your master's gifts, trade with them for Him, till He shall come. Yes, and remember also, that when opposed to the word of God, the argument, It is good for trade, is an argument which is good for nothing. Your humble Servant, THOMAS HUNKS. Redeemer who was to lead them to their much loved Jerusalem, was to be honoured with every mark of respect and awe from old and young. But where have such hopes ended? and where will such hopes ever end? in futility. The Messiah if not received by them as come, must still be looked for, to add each time a more bitter disappointment than the last one, and how earnestly do they pray. "The year that is coming, Oh! bring us to Jerusalem."-But though they in a great degree burst the bonds which the Talmud so strictly enjoined, they are still in a most superstitious state, of which one instance alone will afford ample proof; at the approaching feast of Pentecost, which is observed by them with great solemnity, it is the custom with some Jews to make a very thick cake, consisting of seven layers of paste which they call "Sinai;" the seven layers being intended to represent the seven heavens, through which they think God, was obliged to re-ascend from the top of mount Sinai.--Mr. Myers, in his interesting work,-" Both one in Christ," describes their superstitious observance of the word of the command to "keep holy the sabbath day! however severe the weather no fire can be lighted upon that day, the breaking of the seals of letters, and the lighting of candles are considered to desecrate it. To obviate the annoyances which must frequently occur, a Gentile servant is almost always engaged, sometimes indeed to attend upon several families, the work in one not being sufficient to occupy the whole of her time; and in this case should a spark from the fire or candle cause any object upon which it may alight to take fire, while the servant is in another house they must look on and see the blaze increase until she is able to come and extinguish it. The Author alluded to relates, that one sabbath evening sitting at supper with his family, sparks from the candles fell upon the table cloth, which was soon in flames; all started from their seats but none durst extinguish it, and before the Gentile servant could arive from a neighbour's house the cloth and many other things upon the table were consumed. I have myself frequently spoken with a Christian servant engaged by a Jewish family, who were sufficiently wealthy to employ one Gentile servant themselves; upon their sabbath her chief occupation was to perform those services which except for her attendance they must have gone without; repeatedly was she summoned to stir the fire; should the fire-irons fall,her services were again required to place them aright, in fact for every trivial thing which but for her must have remained undone until the sabbath had closed. But how did they spend our sabbaths, remembering that we too are enjoined to keep holy a sabbath to their and our God, should they at all absolve her from her daily service? no; our sabbath was to them a festival devoted entirely to amusement; music and dancing were the usual accompaniments of the return of this day, and gambling was also carried on. Shocked and afraid she remained for a few weeks uncertain if such was usually the case, but at length, so terrified did she become at being obliged to make no difference between this and any other day, that she durst no longer remain, and left them in terror. Who can read the accounts now so continually published of the sufferings of the Jews, without desiring to help on the different methods for their relief which have been begun so many years; the words of scripture are as true now as they were when penned by the inspired writers, Therefore we may take its promises to ourselves when in the the path of duty, and the words, "Blessed is he who blesseth thee," contain an encouragement to overcome every difficalty; and if we daily pray, "Thy kingdom come," is it Lot strange that we use no means, or very slight ones, for the advancement of that kingdom?-Of this scripture leaves us no room to doubt, that by neglecting to aid the conversion of the Jews, we become the people against whom the prophets were commanded to denounce judgments which fill us while reading them with awe; and by assisting to remove the burden from the Israelitish nation, we are by spreading the Gospel of our Saviour in this manner, performing a holy work, perhaps more especially pleasing to God, than any other. But neglecting the present, how dare we trust to the future for the opportunity of benefiting the Jew? Already is the horizon darkened with the aspect of great and mighty events at hand, and who dare say that the Protestant Nation of England, shall for a longer space, or if for a longer space, who can say that England shall for a lengthened time have the privilege granted, shall have it as she now has in her power to devote the time, the talents, the wealth of her people to the welfare of the Jew? and deeply indeed will she have cause to lament her lukewarmness to the cause of Israel, if that very lukewarmness shall turn against herself in the shape of dark and fearful Infidelity; nor let this be supposed a vain notion. Some of the most learned divines in our own country fear it, some of the most devoted Christians of our own land dread it, and some of the converted Jews dwelling amongst us having seen it, speak with a warning voice to tell us, that as we care so little for the seeds of infidelity being sown, so must we also expect to reap the produce of them, and what if that shall prove an abundant harvest! In this age of knowledge ought we not to tremble on the brink of the precipice which lies yawning beneath our feet; for seek knowledge in the present day all will, and the Jew amongst the rest; whether we assist him to procure that knowledge which maketh" wise unto salvation," let each Christian ask himself.--Infidelity has indeed already spread its poison in many directions, and if the opportunity of counteracting its baneful effects be lost now while the desire for information is so prevalent among the Jews, our efforts hereafter may prove useless, the poison may have sunk too deeply, and spread too quickly to be eradicated. Kidder said with much truth more than a century ago, "The Jews are, of all men in the world the most considerable enemies of Christianity. The Deists among us, who would run down our revealed religion, and those among us who oppose many of its fundamental articles, are but underworkmen to the Jews; their tools and instruments with which they labour are to be found in the shops of the Jews, who are generally more dexterous in using them, than those men are among ourselves who trade under them. And Dr. Mc Caul adds, " The truth of this remark is fully borne out by the stress which the infidels of our own times lay upon the assistance of the Jews. An infidel bookseller in London, has published an English translation of the "Toldoth Jeshu," and promises translations of several other Jewish books, which, he says, have never been refuted. If we then do not come forward zealously and efficiently to lead the Jews to Christianity, it is my own conviction that we may live to see Jews instrumental in leading many to a rejection of the New Testament." It should be remembered, that though scattered through the world, and possessed of no country of their own, yet by conversion the Jew becomes assimilated in some degree to the people whose faith he has adopted, and among whom he dwells, and that in the course of years his descent may be entirely overlooked. Several of the most intelligent travellers of late years who have diligently considered the subject, give undoubted proofs from ancient customs still remaining, names, superstitions, and other circumstances, that in many countries long distinguished by the name of Christian there are descendants of Jews considered as a part of the people with whom they dwell, and subjects of the same government; and it has been ably agreed by a writer of the present day, that such is the case in England; and judging from the number whose families are known (though perhaps not generally so) to have become Christian in the last and preceding centuries only, and who are now esentially considered the subjects of Great Britain as other Christians, the inference does not seem too difficult to obtain belief.-When then our |