Imágenes de páginas

lemptiotns, "that ye are not your own, for ye are bought with a price; therefore glorify God in your baiv, and in your spirit, which are God's." Hence, to lead holy and virtuous lives, and in all things to conform to God's will, who has "called us out of lirkness into his marvellous light," is a duty more incumbent upon those who acknowledge this his unmerited loving-kindness, than upon the rest of mankind. The favour is greater which prompts to the dutv, while the condition in which we are placed renders the performance of it both practical ind easy. Heathens can only conduct themst!v« by the direction of a blind and perverted re»>n; but Christians are in possession of the nwrrinjr. instructions of the Father of Lights. trim them no part of his will lies concealed, they inowit inthe full extent of its demand—they know it in the full extent of its sanction—they know it in the full extent of its spirituality—and, "conb'raitudby the love of Christ," and knowing what is "'be hope of their calling," they aspire after the loftiest heights of holiness, by endeavouring to have Cbriit "• formed in their hearts the hope of glory," "that they may be pure even as he is pure," and by driving to shew forth the praises of God, is (lairing " to be perfect even as their Father in teaven is perfect." The view, in short, which is »"* exhibited of the divine nature and conduct, tie account which is given of the present state i*l condition of man, and the prospects which are opened into a future and eternal world, are calculated, more than all other considerations and reaKming8 put together, to interest the active powers 'f the soul on the side of duty, and to engage all Ire liner feelings of the heart in its behalf. ' God, B Christ, reconciling the world to himself; Christ, ie just suffering for the sins of the unjust, that tt might bring them unto God; and the Holy ■'hist descending from above to instruct, and com'"■ and strengthen the heirs of salvation; are ruths that afford the most powerful persuasives • godliness and virtue which can possibly be adtaied to the mind of man. He who can shut »eyes from beholding their force, and steel his 'eat against being moved by their influence, must "' only be destitute of all sense of duty, and all *l-:nj of gratitude, but utterly regardless about '• own happiness, and the perfection of his nature. hey urge to eminent and universal holiness, by Wy argument that can convince; by every contention that can attach ; by every representation •it can allure; by the mercy of God; by the love Christ; by the example of his life ; by the proliatory efficacy of his death ; by the consolations his spirit; by the terror of eternal misery, and the offer of everlasting happiness. 3. But in order that we may duly and reverentuallow the name of our Father in heaven, we ist live under a habitual sense of our depended upon his mercy and grace, for strength and ility to serve him, and cordially acquiesce in i full extent of a method of salvation which im« absolute helplessness on the part of man, and :nbes the glory of our recovery to God. These

sentiments ought to be present in every human breast, whatever be the aspect under which we contemplate ourselves. Every thing we owe to God; and without his blessing and presence with us in all our undertakings, in nothing can we prosper, or bring to a successful issue any of the works of our hands. How much more ought feelings of abasement and self-distrust to fill our minds, when we consider ourselves as sinners, and reflect upon the amazing exhibition of divine love, in the work of our redemption? Here, above all, ought we to regard ourselves as wholly and entirely in the hands of God, and receive with humble, though assured faith, the perfect work of righteousness which he has planned and executed, and is alone able to complete for us in Christ Jesus. We then truly exalt his goodness, when, viewing ourselves as utterly lost and deserving of being so, we acknowledge his wisdom in receiving his own Son as our substitute,—the efficacy of his grace, and the all-sufficiency of his power in raising us, through the agency of his Spirit, to newness of life,—his righteousness in admitting none to his favour but the pure in heart, who are enabled to serve him with a willing mind,—his infinite mercy and love in fully qualifying and making us meet for the heavenly inheritance, and in aU this we do honour to the riches of his grace by accepting of his unspeakable gift, and rejoicing in him as our wisdom, our righteousness, our sanctification, and complete redemption.

Praying, therefore, that the name of God may be hallowed, let us study to live in obedience to his holy will, and to sanctify him, not only in our hearts and by our mouths, but. also by the whole tenor of o\ir deportment. Men, unquestionably, do then only glorify their Maker, when they make his moral perfections the model of their conduct, and it is then that the character of the Supreme Being becomes truly illustrious in the eyes of the world, when his servants discover that their belief in his attributes has an influence on their actions and behaviour. Hence it is enjoined upon them, that they are to let their light so shine before men, that others seeing their good works may likewise be led to glorify their Father in heaven. But while God is the greatest, the holiest, the most august being in the universe, it becomes us also to rejoice in him as the most gracious, most compassionate, and merciful, out of whose fulness we receive all our supplies,—grace to sanctify, mercy to pardon, wisdom to direct, strength to nourish and support us; and never should we take his name into our lips, or breathe a prayer at his throne, without feeling that, as rational beings dependent upon his bounty, and sinners whom he has ransomed from destruction, and new creatures whom he has formed after his own image, our highest praises are due to him, and that it is not merely our duty, but our most distinguished privilege, to aim at a resemblance of Hit holy and righteous attributes, who perfects strength in our weakness, and aids us by his Spirit, that we may "become holy, even as he is holy."

Finally, God's name is hallowed, when we yield with submission to the dispensations of his providence, receive his mercies with thankfulness, and soften our hearts under the chastening^ of his afflictive hand. "We have had fathers of our flesh," observes the apostle, "which corrected us, and we gave them reverence: shall we not much rather be in subjection to the Father of Spirits, and live?" Were God a tyrant, and the evils of life the instruments of his wrath, prudence would teach us to receive them from his hand with silent acquiescence. But when we discover evident marks of kindness in the severest dispensations of his providence, it becomes us to submit to the hardships of our condition, not with acquiescence only, but with gratitude and reverence. To murmur and repine at the circumstances of our lot, is, in effect, to set ourselves in opposition to God, and to distrust his power, wisdom, and goodness. Placed, as we are, under the government of the greatest and the best of all being's, we should not barely be silent in the season of affliction, but should embrace the calamities that are sent us from on high with cheerfulness. However painful to the feelings of nature our condition may be, our spirits should rejoice in the conviction, that we suffer by the appointment of our Heavenly Father, whose name we should hallow, both when we are abased, and when we abound. When the tide of adversity runs highest, conviction of an interest in his favour, through Jesus Christ, should prove to us an anchor, both sure and stedfast, and in the darkest night of our affliction, it becomes us to take up the confidential hymn of the Prophet :—" Although the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines,—the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls: yet we will rejoice in the Lord; we will joy in the God of our salvation."—Amen.

OLD SUSAN. "To the poor the Gospel is preached," and it is often remarked, that the finest examples of the power of Religion, as a vital principle in the heart, are to be found in the huts and cottages of the Christian poor. Of this truth, we have been forcibly reminded in perusing the simple story of " Old Susan," which we are about to present to our readers. It is contained in the interesting Report of an Agent "appointed to visit, at their own dwellings, the Scottish Working and Poorer Classes in Liverpool."

"In the month of May I was appointed to visit a poor woman, supposed to be dying, residing in the neighbourhood of London-road. I called upon her in the afternoon of the day on which I received my instructions. She was ill of dropsy. On my entrance into her room she was sitting up in bed, having just taken some refreshment. A living countenance so wasted, I think I never saw; but I was soon made to perceive that the spirit which animated her calm and vivid eye, was as unaffected by the state of her body, as if it had no relation to it. Her mind was of an order and character difficult to reconcile with the humble occupation of her lite—a washer and dresser of clothes; and her personal

appearance, every thing, indeed, in her dwelling, seemed to partake much of the character of her mind—though plain, all was comfortable, and even respectable. The hour I spent in her little room, passed quickly over, but it was unusually interesting. The conversation took a high range. She spoke with surpassing clearness, intelligence, and precision, and with a peculiar fervour, of the general Church of Christ in the world; that portion of it existing in Scotland, with which she was connected; the leading spirits or pastors of that Church in the West, in her younger years—Russel, M'Kinlay, Balfour. fee, onward, till her last communion with the Churcii in Oldham Street. She did not hesitate to speak of herself, but it was with characteristic and becomin; diffidence. She could not point to any period in bet Christian experience, of which she could say, '1 ma born on such a day,' but she was brought up from her infancy in the light of the Gospel, and her expression, of thankfulness on this account were abuniiait'goodness and mercy,' she said, ' had followed her aTJ the days of her life.' She reverted also to her present situation and circumstances, under the certainty of (a* approaching death; but to her death seemed striptofall its terrors—its sting already and for ever taken amy. It appeared a subject familiar to her thoughts, while tie deepest awe sat upon the spirit as she spoke of it; >»d the peace she experienced manifestly arose from a dear, unhesitating, yet humble and rejoicing conviction of! personal interest in the glory that is to follow. Thankfulness seemed the prevailing disposition of her mind— expressions of it mingled with every mercy—and faith ms obviously its living principle—her unwavering hope appearing, at times, to lose itself in a flickering enjoyment. When speaking of the love of God to the world; the finished work of Christ, as the ground of her confidence; the sufficiency of the atonement; the depth of the Redeemer's sufferings; the preciousness of his name; her on un worthiness, side by side with her personal interest in the covenant, ' ordered in all things and sure,' 1 sou never forget her solemn but elevated appearance, and toe appropriating fervour which seemed to breathe in even word. When about to take leave of her, for a time. I was startled at being told that she was to be sent totht Infirmary on the following day. Whatever 1 thought respecting this movement, when contrasted with "*; present quiet and retired comfort, I said nothing benTM expressing my surprise; but she, as if guessing a! »Jwas passing in my mind, laid her hand, very solemnly. on mine, and said, * It is the Lord's will, and »W have you or I to say to it? While I could, I worM. and maintained myself, and even saved a little for t" day of trouble, but it is all gone. God saw good to »J me under his afflicting rod; I felt it was his doing, x& for the future, I must be dependent on others;'we receive good at the band of God, and shall « not receive evil also?" 'Why should a living»» complain?" There was not the slightest nu'sgiTM?'4 her countenance; she made me feel as if it were a cided matter, and that if I interposed, I must be cauix* how I did so.

"Immediately after leaving her, I called upon» "■ spectable innkeeper in the neighbourhood, who hail» a great interest in ' Old Susan,' as she was usnwJ styled, and had arranged for, and procured her ad* sion to the Infirmary. He stated, among other things, shewing the regard he had for her, that the Infirmary •* proposed, only because she would have the best n*cal advice and treatment there; and added, that be * tended keeping her house for her, in the event ct return to better health. I also called upon a respect*- * physician, who had been attracted to Susan by her *,' cellent character, and gratuitously attended her tbrou, out the period of her illness, who assured me it *•* J conviction that she would be better taken care oil"''" than she could be any where else. I then saw, w M

>ri, that, whatever might be the issue, it was a decided natter, and, while humbly and cheerfully acquiescing, felt that vie were all as instruments in the hand of Susan's God, unconsciously, perhaps, fulfilling his gracious purposes towards one whom he had taught with simple confidence to sing and say, as she often did,— 'The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want j' whom, in such measure as it pleased him, he had 'fed all her life long,' and now, ' even to old age would carry her.' "Next day I called at the Infirmary, and found her ■Irjcg by the fire, her little Bible on her lap, and her 'pertacles in her hand, meditating, as she acknowledged, on a favourite passage in her favourite Book of Job, ' I bow that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand ■-' :hc Litter day upon the earth; and though, after my s'ia, norms destroy this body, yet in my flesh I shall we God, whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes -'hail behold.' Here, as in her own room, I was struck nith her remarkable self-possession, and even dignity, rien she pleased; and I could perceive that she had wi of it among those with whom she must now, of necessity, mingle. She had rested a little through the night; her thoughts, when awake, ' were sweet,' and, 'being refreshed, she was thankful.

'" It To, I think, when she had been about three v.ttfaintbeInfirmary, that I one day observed a sudden change for the worse in her appearance. I generally visited her tirice or three times a-week, and having recently seen her in what she considered an improving state of health, I was naturally anxious to ascertain the cause of the change. She admitted that her bodily ailment was nofbing worse, and that her spiritual comfort was nothing ihued; but I got no further information from her then, ad we parted as usual. On looking around me, however, as I left her, I observed that two beds near her, which were occupied two days before, were now empty, and on inquiring of the nurse as I came out, found that nto individuals, one of whom had the same complaint * Susan, had died the preceding night in great agony, mi she thought this circumstance might perhaps shock tilt old woman's feelings.

"-Next day she was considerably relieved, but still in W, and able to give forth of those consolations which seemed, amidst all, to abound. A lady of much respectability visited her this day, who had been for some time 1«8 in the country, and who, I afterwards found, was, from a child, attached to Susan; the meeting, the confluent anxious inquiry after her health, and the partes, were alike affectionate, condescending, and beautitol- It suspended, for a few moments, my interview with Susan, but we had afterwards our usual conversation and fellowship; and, as I was about to take my hsre, she held my hand more earnestly than usual, and ^d,' I hope I shall not die here; I would not like to & in this place.' I at once said, this is what I feared, Siban, as it is inseparable from the Infirmary, and had I known it sooner, you should have been removed, as here are a few Christian friends around you, who, 1 am 'ifident, will esteem it a pleasure to contribute to your "Pport, if you will but lean on them, and trust to my wrtions on your behalf. Her trust was elsewhere, I »ve no doubt, but she seemed satisfied, and in a moment lanced to every thing connected with her removal, arawring the whole with her usual precision, expressing ■lj the wish to be taken back, if possible, into her own "rose. I undertook to fulfil her wishes, and once more -parted, her heart, apparently, not a little lightened. "Susan's case was, unquestionably, one of a peculiar haracter. Most evidently she possessed that claim 'Pon Christian sympathy which the Divine Redeemer *s, in marvellous condescension, been pleased to place » a footing with that which we owe to Him. It was ["possible to know Susan intimately, and not be satisifd that she had the ' Spirit of Christ,' and these words « the Saviour may dictate to every follower of Him to

the end of the world, ■what is duty in such a case—' Inasmuch as ye did it to one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me;' or the commentary upon them by the Apostle, 'Whoso hath this world's goods, and sceth his brother have need, and shutteth up his bowels of compassion from him, how dwelleth the love of God in him?' The Church, as a public body, having allowed half-a-crown a-week towards her support, had done its duty; the propriety of a Church, as such, giving more, seems questionable, but the streams of private, neighbourly, and Christian benevolence, ought to be opened and directed towards such peculiar objects. In every Church, it is to be hoped, there are individuals who would esteem it a privilege, and a very high pleasure, to smooth the rough lonely pillow, and comfort the self-denied heart of such as Susan j—one who, we are constrained to believe, has now joined the throng represented as around the throne of God and of the Lamb, clothed in a pearly robe of heavenly white, the palm of victory in her hand, and sings, in no feeble strain, the song she had learnt on earth, and, 'as she could,' had sung, ' unto Him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in His own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and his Father, to Him be glory and honour, dominion and power, world without end.'

"Several deaths had taken place in the ward of the Infirmary in which Susan lay, one on each side of the bed she occupied; and two of them of the same disease with which she was afflicted. Not to feel, in such circumstances, were more than human; but it was not the death which shocked her, it was the accompaniments,— the recollection of which afterwards made her shudder. She was removed, therefore, as soon after the intimation she gave as possible, to her old residence, then occupied by another, who became her nurse, and Susan the lodger, where she remained till her death.

"To the last she evinced the same unbounded faith in God her Saviour. Her conceptions of the person and glory of the Redeemer were exceedingly exalted. This topic was a distinguishing feature in the theology of the divines among whom she was, in her earlier years, nurtured, and tended greatly to give strength and power to her singularly elevated Christian character. Deep worshipping awe, assimilating to that of those of whom we read, they 'cast their crowns before the throne,' seemed to overshadow her mind when she spoke of Immanuel. He was to her, not only the ' chief among ten thousand,' but, pre-eminently, ' God over all—the King eternal, immortal, invisible—the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father—the great I AM." Whatever kindness was done to her, she received as from him, but was never wanting in grateful expressions of thanks to all who were instrumental in administering to her comfort; there was a dignity, spirituality, and propriety in this feeling, which no words can express.

"She entertained a great regard and affection towards her pastor, who so long attended her in her illness. His temporary absence was a subject of much regret; and, as her end drew near, and when the thought that she might not again see him on earth became painful, it always merged into the meeting ' before the throne.' When told of his return, the feeling it gave rise to did not want for appropriate expression, and although then very weak, and suffering beyond what I had yet seen, she appeared, for a moment, to forget her pain, while her spirit rose in benediction to Him to whom she was accustomed to go, sorrowing or rejoicing.

"In this weak, but, latterly, not apparently suffering state, she remained for several days, and, during the last two, took no sustenance, except a little wine; she scarcely ever after opened her eyes, and all articulations was gone. Arranging, previous to this, respecting her funeral, she cared little about her body, she said, and if the physician, who had so long attended her, expressed a wish to that effect, it might he opened ; thia, however, was not done. A parish coffin, she said, would do for her, but neither was this permitted. The lady already alluded to, as her earliest and constant friend, and the gentleman living in her neighbourhood, who so respected her, paid their last tribute to her memory, by ordering her a richly furnished coffin, and paying every expense attending the funeral. A favourite desire was that she might be buried in Oldham Street Church-yard, and there her dust reposes. So far did the lovingkindness of her God and Saviour follow his aged handmaid; and thus was she brought, 'dust to dust, ashes to ashes,' there to rest until the morning when what was sown in corruption shall rise in incorruption, not having 'spot or wrinkle, or any such thing.' 'Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord.'"

AMERICA, IN 1830 AND 1831.

By Ths Rev. David Waddell.
No. I.


The religion established in the Banda Oriental, of which Monte Video is the capital, as well as in all the new states of South America, is of the Romish persuasion. Here, as in some other of the provinces, an attempt was made by some of the more liberal and enlightened of the patriots, who had long felt the soul-enslaving tendency of Popery, to establish the Christian as the national religion, without any reference to a particular sect; and, by this artifice, to escape at once the thraldom of Popery and the domination of priest-craft. It was, accordingly proposed in the congress, assembled for the purpose of considering the articles of the constitution, "that the religion of the state should he the pure religion of Jesus Christ." The priests who, in this country, are never sleeping at their posts, when they conceive' the Church to be in danger, asked the mover of the proposition, what he thought was the pure religion of Jesus Christ'; and, being of course obliged, as a good Catholic, to admit that it was the Roman Catholic, the priests then demanded, why he did not propose at once that the Roman Catholic should be the national religion. As the subject could not be satisfactorily settled at that meeting, they agreed to postpone the consideration of it to another occasion; and, in the meantime, the clergy raising a hue and cry through the town, that "the Church was in danger," instigated the female part of the community, who have had, from the beginning of the world, the prime agency in the administration of human affairs, to interpose their authority, and exert their influence, to prevent the disruption of the Romish religion from the state. And such was their success that when the proposition was moved, at the next meeting ot the congress it was rejected bv a large majority The Roman Catholic was then estabbshed as the religion of the state, and the piiests seem to take special care, that it shall be not only lord of the ascendant but reign without a rival.

But the Monte Videan Church, though it bears the name and holds the doctrines of Popery, has renounced its allegiance to the Pope, and all connection with Rome Its head, therefore, has been cut off, and the dead body is all that remains. It is, indeed, a dead and headless trunk, all its vitality appears to have fled, and if any of its members shew any of the symptoms of life they are the effect of a kind of galvanic influence not the motions of a living body. It is, in short, a mere automaton, depending for its power of loco-motion on a system of secret machinery, winch is conducted by the clergy behind the curtain, whose object is to astonish the ignorant, to awe the timid, to delude the simple

and, like the keepers of a puppet show, to extort money from every looker-in. The weak and the ignorant, therefore, stand and gaze, and are deceived; while the intelligent either pass by in silent contempt, or stop to inspect its machinery, and trace its movements to their true cause. And thus it is that one part of the Monte Videans are bigots, and the other infidels. My limited means of observation render me, perhaps, incompetent to form an exact estimate of the relative proportion of bigotry and infidelity that prevail among them. But 1 have had no difficulty in adopting the opinion, anil I think all I have seen and heard will justify me in ay. ing, that rank, superstition, and radical scepticism, are striving together for the mastery. The former has fur her devotees, most of the old men, and all the old women, with the children in their train, a few of the young ladies in their company, and occasionally a young maa or two, driven, perhaps, by the lash of a guilty cooscience, to join their devotions. The latter has for kr followers almost all the young men and some of tlfolti, who, however, arc not very zealous in her cause, md, not being molested in their opinions, shew no aniifiy to propagate them. These seem to constitute the najority, but though they are in general the more inteligent, they do not form the more powerful party of tbt two. The others make up by their zeal what they rait in numerical strength, and would undoubtedly be able, should they ever come into collision on any paint, to over-master their opponents. Like all zealots who* zeal is neither for godliness, nor according to knowledge, they are sometimes very violent; and when a print, more faithful than his brethren, happens to caution them against any of the worst tendencies of their superstition, such as relying too much on the efficacy of confessions, indulgences. &c, they are all up in arms together, and they will not rest till the obnoxious Padre is discharged from his office.* Seldom, however, have the people occasion to direct their zeal against any of the clergy. The clergy are but too forward to foment it against the refractory members of the community, as well as those of their own body. All their endeavours, indeed, seem to be directed, not so much to make them ChrUtians, as good Catholics; not so much to render them the holy children of a holy God, as the blind and obedient sons of a blind and apostate Church. Their religion being the same in all its essential doctrinal poinB as it is in every Catholic country in Europe, presents nearly the same outward aspect. It chiefly consists in external observances, and when the people have once gone the round of these, they think their task is done, and all is well. If they attend the confessional-bos at the appointed hours, and pay the penalties imposed by the priest, the penitence of the heart is not supposed to be requisite. If they repeat a certain number of Pi" Austen and Ave Marias; if they visit all the Church a certain number of times in a day; if they present to*« Saints a certain number of candles, and lend tbeir trinkets and gew-gaws to deck their images, tbeytwm to imagine that the whole work of religion is finished. and that, if they continue to go through the same profitless routine of " bodily service," their claim to eternal life is indisputable. They do not appear to know, and their priests neglect to teach them, that the divine commandment is exceeding broad, and extends to the feelings of the heart, as well as to the actions of tie life; that religion must be every thing, or it isaoiiuiy; that it must pervade the whole heart, the whole temper, and the whole conduct. They seem to regard it as a sort of holiday garment, to be worn only on festivals, or at oration times, and then laid aside, as mechanics lay aside their Sunday clothes till the next feast-day. It is not surprising, then, that the religion of the former ehould be as ineffectual in sanctifying their character, a* the Sunday suits of the latter are in sanctifying their*. • A care of thia kind occurred during my residence in. Monte Vide* They have no idea of the necessary and inseparable connection that subsists between true religion and morality, and they seem to think, that if they only go the round of empty ceremonies and external observances, and do all the penances imposed by the Church, the peaceable fruits of righteousness are quite unnecessary either to adorn their character, or to secure their salvation.

Such is the opinion I have been led to form of the nneril character of the Religionists in Monte Video, Lid though it may, perhaps, be deemed a very uncharitable one, it is, I am afraid, but too correct. That there are some, if not many, among them, who, though walkis^ in the darkness of an abject superstition, nevertheless fear the Lord, and trust in his salvation, I sincerely hope «nd would gladly believe. I earnestly trust that, midst this great mass of ignorance, and error and superstitian, God, who can bring light out of darkness, and order out of confusion, has some chosen vessels, rented for his own use and for his own glory. But though " a little leaven may leaven the whole lump," yet, 1 am afraid, that leaven is so little, and that lump K forje, that there is but small probability of any true Christian amalgamation taking place for many years.

But this religion, clouded though it is with the shades of superstition, is, at least, superior to none at all. Poor fallen humanity never appears more pitiful and cheerley than it does when it is "without God and without fopt a tit scorld." Such is the sad and forlorn condition of the infidel, and it is to be lamented that the noaioer who have forsaken the God of their fathers is *> considerable. Infidelity was introduced into Monte rieJeo, and the other states of South America, by means cf the French sceptical books about fifteen years ago; aad tince that period, it has made, and is still making, rapid strides. And as the priests, whose business it chiedy is, have taken no effectual steps to counteract their pernicious tendency, the bane, but not the antidote, has been before them; and, while the poisoned chalice has been handed round, many have drunk its fail contents and become its victims. In Buenos Ayrej, indeed, a few months ago, the government, at the instigation of the bishop, caused all these noxious ioots to be collected and committed to the flames, and uposed a heavy penalty upon those who sold them. Sit this measure, instead of being productive of the '«ired effect, defeated itself, and, by exciting the curiosity of some and the cupidity of others, tended to enTe&se their sale and circulation by clandestine means. The Monte Videan priesthood have very wisely abstaini-d from so injudicious a measure, but they have not hewn, nor appear inclined to shew, any disposition to ulopt another to strike at the root of this growing evil. it it said, indeed, that some of the most influential of he ejergy themselves have imbibed the fatal poison, od the rest, who are men of no education, and whose udueace in the country does not extend beyond a few Ul women, want the power, if they had the inclination, o give it any effectual check. O that God, in his wise .id holy Providence, would raise up among them a VickliiTe, a Luther, or a Knox, to sound the tocsin of harm, and announce to the Church her true danger. rben, but not till then, will the axe be laid to the root f this corrupt tree, and hew it down, that the true vine »a» be planted in its room. Then, but not till " then, hall the wilderness and the solitary place be glad, and »e desert rejoice and blossom as the rose; and instead f the thorn shall come up the fir-tree, and instead of le brier shall come up the myrtle-tree: and it shall be i the Lord for a name, for an everlasting sign, that -all not be cut off."


Persevere Believers, go on; your last step will be

. the head of the old serpent, but crush it, and spring <-»m it unto glory.—Mason.

Secret Prayer If you live in the neglect of secret

prayer, you show your good-will to neglect all the worship of God. He that prays only when he prays with other.*, would not pray at all, were it not that the eyes of others are upon him. He that will not pray whore none but God seeth him, manifestly doth not pray at all out of respect to God, or regard to his all-seeing eye; and, therefore, doth in effect cast off all prayer. And he that casts off prayer, in effect casts off all the worship of God, of which prayer is the principal duty. Now, what a miserable saint is he who is no worshipper of God! He that casts off the worship of Gud, in effect casts off God himself: he refuses to own him, or to be conversant with him as his God. For the way in which men own God, and are conversant with him as their God, is by worshipping him Edwahds.

Sinfulness and Unprofitableness of Discontent Of

how many mercies is discontent the grave! How does it make the heart, where it is harboured, like the sandy desert, receiving a rich abundance of blessings from on high, without yielding, in return, one grateful acknowledgment, but remaining, after heaven's richest showers of mercy have fallen upon it, as barren and unfruitful as before!—Whits.

Contrast of Earth with Heaven Heaven is the element of faith, of pure, sublimely intellectual, and of ever progressing faith, and of hope, brilliant and infallible hope, which looks forward to enjoyments which have no end, because based on that immutable faithfulness of God, which is alike the tried corner-stone of celestial and terrestial felicity: The chief constituent of the charity which shall last for ever, as well as all the other graces of the saints—is faith; but faith divests of all that hinders its unfettered exercise in this state of probation and of imperfection, still it can only grasp the great outline of God's moral government, and there it sometimes contemplates through a clouded medium; there it looks abroad into infinity, and contemplates objects of exalted delight, which shall suffer no change in the light of the beatific view of God. Here the hope of believers, though generated by a faith which is often strongest in those whose profound humility leads them to expect least, is necessarily imperfect, and is apt to wander from its proper aim; there it is secure in all its calculations, and realizes to the full that which it anticipates; here it may be impeded by doubts, and depressed by fears; there it is sustained and progressive. Here the charity which accompanies faith labours under many disadvantages, it may become contracted from the frailty of the mind in which it is deposited, or may lose its fervour from the ingratitude of those whom it seeks to benefit; there it will have immensity for its sphere of operation, the myriads of the blessed for its beneficiaries, and the infinite love of God at which to kindle that flame of holy affection, which death or sin shall never extinguish Steele.

Think of Christ Let a man profess what he will, if

his thoughts are generally conversant about worldly and sensual things, he has an earthly and worldly mind; as he thinks, so he is; there is the image and likeness of the soul. If, then, we are affected with the love of Christ, it will beget in our souls many thoughts of Christ, in our lying down and in our rising up, in our beds, in our wuys, on our occasions, as well as in ordinances. If, indeed, our hearts are affected with the love of Christ, our thoughts of Christ will abound, and those thoughts will work again on our affections, and conform us more and more to the image of Christ.— Owen.

Christ is All.—Come here and see the victories of the cross. Christ's wounds are thy healing, his agonies thy repose, his conquests thy conflicts, his groans thy songs, his pains thine ease, his shame thy glory, his death (by life, hjs sufferings, thy salvation.—Urns, V.

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