THE OLD YEAR AND THE NEW. 533 vent of the following year. For as one year ends and another begins its course, so life gives place to immortality, death being but the portal which divides and yet connects the two: and did we suitably apprehend the magnitude and realize the certainty of that glorious prospect, we might look forward to the end of life itself with cheerfulness and hope, and "lift up our head with joy, knowing that our redemption is drawing nigh." and unwonted smiles-a feeling which must be the indulgence of the present time, and shut natural, since it prevails everywhere, and may out the thought of an hereafter; but there is no possibly be found to have some root deeply real cheerfulness here" even in laughter the seated among the instincts of our moral being. heart is sorrowful, and the end of that mirth is And it is not difficult to discover many reasons heaviness." (Prov. xiv. 13.) But there is a for cheerfulness and gratitude at such a season. cheerfulness, widely different from this, which is We have been, during the past year, like a alike seasonable and legitimate. The close of ship's crew on a voyage, proceeding on our the year, or the close of life itself, is not necescourse in hope, but still with the consciousness sarily gloomy: it may be made the subject of that we were all exposed, more or less, to dan- deliberate thought, without dispiriting or disger, and often called to witness some floating tressing us. True, when an aged man contrasts wreck, which reminded us of our precarious his withered, trembling, and sinking frame with prospects: and just as, on the completion of a the freshness of infancy or the vigour of youth, voyage, fellow-passengers, as they near the land he perceives that there has been a sad and meor step on the shore, will greet each other with a lancholy change-he knows, too, that another heartier smile, and this, too, although it be but an change awaits him, and cannot be far distant, intermediate port, and they are soon to embark which will consign that frail tabernacle to the again on the same stormy sea, because hither- dust, and separate him for ever from the congreto, at least, they have been conducted in safety; gation of living men; but if the soul be ripe for even so may all who have seen the close of an immortality, if it be sustained by the living hope other year feel that cheerfulness which a grate- of a heavenly inheritance, if Christ be formed ful sense of sparing and preserving mercy in his heart the hope of glory, then the close of inspires, and congratulate each other on their one life, and the commencement of another, continued life and health, when many on every may be regarded with much the same feelings hand have been taken away. There is much, the same, I mean in kind, but proportionhowever, in our present circumstances that ably more intense in degree-with which he should temper this feeling, and make us "re-regards the departure of the last, and the adjoice with trembling." The rapid flight of time, the nearer prospect of an eternal world, the changes we have already witnessed, and may yet anticipate-these reflections, so naturally suggested by the season, may well chasten our cheerfulness, and prevent it from degenerating into intemperate mirth. They may even impart to it a shade of pensiveness; for the young are reminded that the charms of infancy and childhood are irrecoverably gone-their seniors may feel that the strength, the vivacity, the fresh- Another feeling, closely connected with the ness of youth are vanishing away-while the former, and springing from the same source, is aged and infirm are standing on the verge of familiar to the minds of all at this season. The the grave, waiting only for the summons which new year is universally felt to be an appropricalls them hence for ever. Oh! how desolate ate season for the exercise and manifestation is the condition of a soul which, in such circum- of the social affections. Our affections may be stances, has no higher hope than the precarious equally real and sincere at other times, but prospect of the present life, and no aspiration there are special seasons when their presence for a better and more enduring portion than the is more sensibly felt and more expressively world! Youth gone, age advancing, death signified. The love of a parent for his children drawing nearer every day, and an eternity open- is a perennial feeling; but the man whose heart ing before them unprovided for, is it wonderful is filled by it to overflowing, may scarcely be that mere worldly men should feel that, were conscious of its power in the ordinary circumthey to reflect seriously, either on the past stances and daily intercourse of his family. It or future, it would fill their minds with gloom is when one or other of his children is absent, and terror, and that the best, the only means of or about to leave him, still more if that child be preserving anything like cheerfulness or com- stricken with disease, or exposed to danger, or posure, is a desperate effort to banish thought, involved in temporal distress, that the latent and a determination to enjoy the present hour feeling is evoked into instant and vivid manifeswithout looking beyond it, in the spirit of tation. And so our social affections in general that Epicurean philosophy which, as a practi- are called forth into livelier exercise, and more cal habit, is familiar to many minds which significant expression, by any occasion or event would disclaim it as a speculative theory, and which serves to recall the recollection of merwhich the apostle describes in its essential cha-cies enjoyed and trials endured in common, or racter when he says: "Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die?" Hence the riotous mirth of many on the new year. They seize to revive our sense of mutual dependence and obligation as members of the same family or the same community. The new year is a sea son of this kind: it reminds us of much in the past, and leads us to anticipate still more in the future, affecting equally ourselves and those with whom we stand connected in life, whether for weal or for woe. At such a season, it is not wonderful that we should be sensible of a warmer glow of feeling, and a greater disposition to give utterance to it in words and deeds of kindness: but if we be Christians indeed, these affections should flow in a spiritual channel, and find expression in prayer and deeds of Christian usefulness: we should seriously reflect how we have been acting towards our family and friends-what influence our conversation and example have been exerting over them-whether it has been such as is fitted to promote their real welfare, and to ripen them for the coming eternity; or, on the contrary, to diminish their reverence for God and their regard for religion, and thus to accelerate and insure their everlasting ruin. Be assured your influence, small as you may suppose it to be, has left some impression upon them, for good or for evil, during the by-past year; and be persuaded now to consider seriously how you may best benefit them hereafter-how you may counteract, or compensate for, the evils of former negligence or error, and show at once the sincerity and the strength of your love to them, by promoting the highest of all their interests -the welfare of their precious souls. Fathers and mothers! have you no duty to do towards your children which has been neglected, or too carelessly discharged during the past year? Brothers and sisters! can you do nothing more for each other's spiritual welfare during the year that is now before you? The time is short -the work is great. You may be taken away from them, or they may be taken away from you, before the year is closed; and this double uncertainty gives a solemn interest to the question: What can you do for them? what will you do for them, before they or you are called to enter on the world of spirits? Thus, the feelings and affections which are called forth by the return of this season may be sanctified and directed to a noble end; especially if they lead you, as they led Moses, to the mercy-seat, that you may there pray for yourselves, and those who are dear to you; for prayer is the noblest expression of love, and the mightiest instrument of good, since it engages Almighty Power and Infinite Benevolence on behalf of those for whom it is offered, and is indeed twice blessed, since it blesses him who prays, and those for whom he prays. You cannot go to God, asking a blessing for others, and return without a blessing to your own souls. RAKING WITH THE TEETH UPWARDS. WE were amused with the account given by a sensible old farmer, of a minister of his acquaintance, who he thought preached rather too smoothly, with too little application to the conscience. Why," said he, " he seems to be a good man, but he will rake with the teeth upwards." Now this is very expressive; there is much meaning in it. Raking with the teeth upwards is as bad as sowing in fallow ground without breaking it up. Raking with the teeth upwards will never gather the hay. Raking with the teeth upwards, or harrowing in the same manner, will smooth over the field, but will neither rake in the seed nor rake out the weeds. A preacher knows not how to do his work who rakes with the teeth upwards. The teeth of the Gospel are not set in this way, but point down into the heart and the conscience. Men of the world, and men after it, do not rake with the teeth upwards, but downwards. Politicians often rake with the teeth upwards. Flatterers always do, but the work which they do is not raking, but smoothing and covering over. Raking with the teeth upwards, in a preacher, is handling the Word of God deceitfully. Raking with the teeth upwards is Satan's work: "Ye shall not surely die." Paul raked the Corinthians with the ' teeth downwards, and made them both sore and sorry. They sorrowed to repentance; and in this Paul rejoiced, for the Gospel rake in his hand had done its work effectually. WISDOM CONTRASTED WITH KNOWLEDGE. KNOWLEDGE and wisdom, far from being one, Have oft'times no connection. Knowledge dwells In heads replete with thoughts of other men; Wisdom, in minds attentive to their own. Knowledge-a rude unprofitable mass, The mere materials with which wisdom builds, Till smooth'd and squared and fitted to its placeDoes but encumber whom it seems to enrich. Knowledge is proud that he has learn'd so much; Wisdom is humble that he knows no more. COWPER BE NOT RIGHTEOUS OVER-MUCH. THERE have been various opinions on the advice of the wise man, "Be not righteous overmuch," &c. Great numbers have produced it with a view to censure religious zeal, and in favour of a spirit of indifference. Others, who would abhor such an abuse of it, have yet thought it directed against intemperate zeal. Others have thought righteousness and wisdom here to mean a spirit of self-righteousness, and a being wise in our own eyes. Others have thought the verses to be a caution against presumption on the one hand, and despair on the other. some have considered the whole book as a dialogue between a libertine and a moral philosopher; and that the above passage is the language of the former. It is not my design to find fault with any except the first; though, And UNION FOR PRAYER. I acknowledge they have none of them afforded me satisfaction. The following paraphrase is submitted to the judgment of the intelligent reader. Suppose Solomon to be addressing himself to a young man, which he frequently does, under the character of a son, not only in the Proverbs, but in this book also (chap. xi. 9, xii. 1, 12); and suppose verses 16 and 17 to be an irony, or a cutting sarcasm upon the unrighteous and foolish taste of the world. "All things have I seen in the days of my vanity there is a just man that perisheth in his righteousness, and there is a wicked man that prolongeth his life in his wickedness."Verse 15. I have lived to see many strange things in my lifetime; things that have made me lose all liking to the present state. I have seen uprightness, instead of promoting a man in the esteem of those about him, only serve to bring him to ruin. I have also seen wickedness, instead of exposing a man to the loss of life or estate, often go unpunished, yea, and even be the means of his promotion. "Be not righteous over-much, neither make thyself over-wise: why shouldest thou destroy thyself?"-Verse 16. 535 what they will, and let things go as they may in the world, righteousness and wisdom shall be found best at last; and he that feareth God will not dare to sacrifice these excellences to obtain a few temporary honours-he will sooner live and die in obscurity. "Wisdom strengtheneth the wise more than ten mighty men which are in the city."Verse 19. A consciousness of his being in the right, too, will wonderfully sustain his mind-far more than any popular applause could do, or even the rewards and honours of the great. If the above be the sense of the passage, then, it may be observed, how foreign as well as foolish is that sense which some have put upon it, as if it were intended to recommend a kind of mediocrity of virtue and vice; whereas this is the very thing intended to be satirized! A sensualist might as well plead for his practices from chap. xi. 9: "Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth," &c., as a lukewarm professor use this passage to plead for his indifference.Fuller. UNION FOR PRAYER, DURING EIGHT DAYS, 1847. My son, if you wish to go through the world From Sabbath the 3d to Sabbath the 10th of January, with applause, hearken to me. You must not be very righteous, I assure you! nor yet very wise. A man whose conscience will stick at nothing will get promoted before you; and a vain, confident fool will gain the popular applause; while you, with your sterling but modest wisdom, will be utterly neglected. Be not over-much wise nor righteous, my son: why should you ruin yourself? "Be not over-much wicked; neither be thou foolish: why shouldest thou die before the time?"-Verse 17. Only take care you be not too much wicked; for, however mankind are averse to tenderness of conscience, they do not like an arrant villain. If you play too much at that game, you may lose your life by it. Neither must you be too much of a fool; for, however mankind are not fond of sterling wisdom, yet barefaced folly will not always go down with them: if you would please the world, and get honour among the generality of men, you must be neither a sterling wise man nor a stark fool. As it is the distinguishing mark of an irony to close seriously, and as such a close gives it its edge and force (see 1 Kings xxii. 15, 17; Eccles. xi. 9), so now it is supposed the irony ends, and the serious style is resumed. "It is good that thou shouldest take care of this; yea, also from this withdraw not thine hand: for he that feareth God shall come forth of them all."-Verse 18. As if he should say, But hearken, my son; another word before we part. Notice what I say to you, and abide by it. Let the world say ANOTHER Prayer Union has been proposed, and the period appointed is in the beginning of Januarycommencing with Sabbath the 3d, and concluding with Sabbath the 10th. We trust that this proposal may be cordially and universally responded to by all who name the name of Christ, not only in Great Britain, but throughout the world. Truly we need to pray! In these prayerless days we need to be stirred up to prayer! We need to learn what it is to pray in faith, and what it is to pray without ceasing. I. OUR DUTY.-Pray without ceasing. (1 Thess. v. 17.) Men ought always to pray, and not to faint. (Luke xviii. 1.) Few Christians remember the command thus laid on them to continue instant in prayer. They acknowledge the privilege, but overlook the duty. Hence they do not consider the sin of neglecting prayer. Yet who can calculate the weight of guilt at this moment lying on the Churches of Christ as well as on private Christians, for not praying without ceasing? Hours, weeks, months, wasted in folly, indolence, sleep, company, idle visiting, frivolous conversation, unprofitable reading, useless occupations, that might have been redeemed for prayer! What is half an hour, what is an hour, each morning and evening? What is this to Luther's three hours, or John Welsh's eight? Lord, teach us to pray! II. OUR NEED OF PRAYER.-Oh, what need! Words cannot set forth its greatness, nor would a lifetime suffice to declare our manifold wants. What need to pray! 1. Spiritual life is low. with the warmth of other (Rev. iii. 1.) Compared days, it can scarcely be called life at all. We have left our first love. (Rev. ii. 4.) We have become lukewarm, neither cold nor hot. (Rev. iii. 16.) Living religion is a lean and spectral shade. Zeal evaporates in form and bustle. Faith is languishing, and love is fallen into the sere and yellow leaf. What need of quickening! What need of vital warmth-a warmth not produced by the mere friction of excitement, but glowing and fresh from the altar above, the warmth of souls baptized with the Holy Ghost and with fire. 2. We make little progress. Ever learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth. (2 Tim. iii. 7; Heb. v. 12.) In the mighty business of advancing in the Christian course, of growing in grace, we seem, alas! to dream. Five, ten, twenty, forty years fly on, and we seem only at the point whence we started when first we believed! Our light is not brightening, our holiness is not deepening, our graces are not ripening! What a feeble, famished band of worn-out Christians are we! Neither growing ourselves, nor helping others to grow! Oh, what need to pray! 3. There is much inconsistency. Our light does not shine before men. (Matt. v. 14, 16.) It is hidden and clouded. At the best, it has more of the red blaze of the meteor than the fresh glad radiance of the morning star. Christ expects us to be his representatives on earth; "as he was, so are we to be in this world." Yet we are not. The mirror is not merely soiled and dim, but marred and broken, reflecting the world more than Jesus from its thousand fragments. We have little of the mind of Christ. (Phil. ii. 1-5.) We are not self-denied, solemn, humble, lowly, gentle, loving; but full of self, pride, levity, malice, and envy. Miserable representatives of the altogether perfect One! Sad, shaded, mis-shapen likenesses of the altogether lovely One! Through us his name is blasphemed, and his Gospel hindered! (Ezek. xxxvi. 20.) Oh, what need to pray! 64 Our ser 4. There is little power in the ministry. Of Luther it was said, each word of thine was a thunderbolt." Of Venn we are told, that when he preached men fell before him like slaked lime." Baxter tells us, that he had reason to believe that he never preached one sermon in vain. How different now! mons fall pointless and powerless. Consciences are not pricked, hearts are not broken, souls are not saved! The sleepers awake not, the dead arise not, the dark world remains a dark region still; the dry bones still lie whitening along the valley, unquickened and unshaken! What a palsied ministry is even that of those who have been most blessed in our day! Where are the pentecostal sermons? where the pentecostal shower? What desolate districts, what lifeless congregations appal the eye and sadden the believing soul! Oh, what need to pray! (Hos. x. 1-12; Zech. x. 1-3.) 5. Disunion prevails. Instead of being ONE, the Churches of Christ are rent in a thousand pieces. Instead of being bound together in loving union, Christians keep far asunder, and allow their love toward each other to be chilled. The cement of charity which binds souls together being removed, the whole body crumbles into fragments. Unity cannot subsist when love has fled. What dishonour on the name of Jesus does this disunion bring! It seems as if he | had prayed in vain. (John xvii. 20–23.) Sad, strange spectacle to a scoffing world for these eighteen hundred years! Oh, what need to pray! 6. Wickedness abounds. What are our large cities but sinks of iniquity; and what are our country parishes, even at the best, but so many barren wastes? The enemy has come in like a flood; error multiplies; superstition spreads itself; infidelity is leavening the multitude; intemperance overflows; licentiousness pours itself out like a flood; ungodliness covers the land. The efforts of Christians to arrest the torrent, or dry up its waters, are unavailing. Perilous times have come. The shadows of the world's evening are stretched out. The earth is defiled under the inhabitants thereof. (Isa. xxiv. 5.) Oh, what need to pray! III. THE ADVANTAGES OF SUCH A UNION.-It would unite all real believers, removing the many interposing barriers of separation, and drawing them into one. It would kindle love to each other among God's people of every Church and clime; it would tend to separate us from the world; it would present a solemn spectacle to the world; it would fix our hearts upon the obtaining of the promised blessings; it would awaken in us a more fervent spirit of prayer, and make us alive to the necessity of praying more. It woul honour God's ordinance of prayer, and Christ's special promise regarding agreement in prayer; it would draw down the blessing from above, so that in answer to our united cries, we should have the Holy Spirit of promise poured largely down on us to gather out a people prepared for the Lord. What might we not expect for ourselves, for our land, our cities, our congregations, the world in which we live? Who can calculate the blessed, the infinite, the eternal results of such a Union in Prayer! IV. THE MANNER IN WHICH IT IS TO BE DONE. 1. Each Christian should endeavour to set apart as much of the proposed time as possible for private prayer. It is one of the chief ends of this concert to send each individual to his closet, and to summon them to more fixed earnestness of soul in wrestling with the prayer-hearing, promise-keeping God. 2. Besides directing the minds of the household to the objects of the Prayer Union at family worship, small temporary prayer-meetings might be formed among Christians, who may have it in their power to meet with each other. 3. There should be public congregational meetings during the whole period. These ought to be fre quent; once each day would not be too often in most cases. This, however, must be left to the judgment of each minister. These public meetings ought by no means to trench upon the hour set apart for private prayer. 4. The previous Saturday should be spent as a day of fasting and humiliation. Let there be heard all that day a cry from the depths. (Ps. cxxx.) 5. The hour between eight and nine each morning and evening, in so far as lies in our power, should be strictly set apart for prayer. JAMES NIVISON OF CLOSEBURN MILL. What things soever ye desire, when ye pray believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them. (Mark xi. 24.) Passages for our warrant and encouragement — Deut. iv. 29-31; Hos. xii. 3-6; Zech. x. 1; Mal. iii. 16; Matt. xviii. 19; Mark xi. 22–24; John xiv. 13, 14; Rom. viii. 26. Kelso. The Free Church Committee on the state of religion have issued an address, suggesting the following arrangements in connection with the Prayer Union : Supposing some part of the Lord's-day, which is on the 3d of January, to be employed in laying open some of the aspects of Divine Providence, some of the provocations prevalent in society, and the duty of the Church in these circumstances, the following subjects might be suitably brought under consideration, and form the chief matters of prayer on each of the following days. On Monday, the fruitfulness or barrenness of the Gospel in congregations, and especially in the congregation to which the parties belong. "O thou that art named the house of Jacob, is the Spirit of the Lord straitened? are these his doings? do not my words do good to him that walketh uprightly?" (Micah ii. 7.) On Tuesday, the growth or decay of practical godliness among such as believe. "O generation, see ye the word of the Lord. Have I been a wilderness unto Israel? a land of darkness? Wherefore say my people, We are lords; we will come no more unto thee?" (Jer. ii. 31.) On Wednesday, the condition of the young, and the means employed for their instruction and spiritual well-being. "Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God." (Mark x. 14.) On Thursday, prevailing sins, and especially intemperance, as hindrances to the progress of the Gospel. "Behold the Lord's hand is not shortened, that it cannot save; neither is his ear heavy, that it cannot hear: but your iniquities have separated between you and your God, and your sins have hid his face from you, that he will not hear." (Isa. lix. 1, 2.) On Friday, the condition of large towns aud populous districts, containing very many who make no profession of religion. "The hand of the Lord was upon me, and carried me out in the Spirit of the Lord, and set me down in the midst of the valley which was full of bones, and caused me to pass by them round about: and, behold, there were very many in the open valley: and, lo! they were very dry." (Ezek. xxxvii. 1, 2.) On Saturday, the proper observance of the Lord'sday, and how to begin so as to enjoy it aright. "I was in the Spirit on the Lord's-day." (Rev. i. 10.) If some such topics as these were to occupy the attention and form the special subjects of prayer during the week, the way would be opened for prac 537 tical instructions and directions on the concluding Sabbath; and resolutions might thus be formed, and works entered upon, which would not otherwise be thought of, and they would thus, moreover, be "sanctified by the Word of God and prayer." THE THEATRE. PUBLIC spectacles and stage entertainments, so alluring to the eye, and so curiously provided, are always dangerous, and often fatal; for by indulging the luxurious and insatiable appetite of the eye, distempers are introduced into the mind, of which it is never cured: the objects there presented to the sight are either corrupting in themselves, or made so by art and circumstance. Piety, goodness, and virtue, are quiet and obscure; they pass through life without noise or figure but the spirit of intrigue is active and busy, productive of plot and incident. Vice is enthusiastic, impetuous, and picturesque, and furnishes matter of grand effect, fit for stages and theatres. When good and evil are both misrepresented, which mostly happens, the mind of an unguarded spectator catches the misrepresentation, and makes it a rule of action. Let the self-murderer appear with dignity, and the robber be merry and successful upon the stage, suicides and thieves will be increased and multiplied.-Jones. JAMES NIVISON OF CLOSEBURN MILL. (From Simpson's "Traditions of the Covenanters.") THE farm of Closeburn Mill was, in the times of persecution, tenanted by James Nivison, a man of a saintly character and of unbending integrity. His house was an occasional resort to the wanderers that frequented the district. The curate of Closeburn had no good-will to this worthy man, and he sought every opportu nity to injure him. James refused to attend his church-a circumstance which gave unpardonable offence to that Prelatic underling-and he failed not to lodge information against him, as being a disaffected and disloyal person. He had one friend in the parish, however, in the person of Sir Thomas Kirkpatrick, whose lenity to the sufferers that crept into the woods and glens near him was displayed on various occasions. When the worthy knight learned the determination of the curate respecting James Nivison, and knowing the vindictive disposition of the man, he entreated James to yield so far as to consent to enter the church, though it were only to go in by the one door and out by the other. With this, however, he would by no means comply; alleging that it would be a compromise of his principles to yield even this apparently trifling matter. The knight could not but admire the firmness and honesty of purpose displayed by this virtuous man, in a case in which he deemed his conscience concerned. Anxious, however, to protect his tenant, he made another proposal, and assured him, if he would come only to the "kirk-style," it might still be in his power to save him; but |