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perhaps trace some resemblance which may rouse your apprehensions lest an Emily may be your child, and you may become the sad and sorrowful parent, over whose simple tale your sympathy has just wept. Mothers, who have in your elder daughters a Julia, watch well the tender child ! pray earnestly that she may be all, yea, more than all here described; for much, very much, depends upon the influence of the elder sister. Wilmington.

MONICA.

WARTEBURGH, THE PATMOS OF LUTHER. On the 11th of May, 1818, this remarkable spot was visited by the late Rev. C. F. Ramftler, of Bristol, when on his way to the Brethren's Synod, at Herrnbut. The following account is extracted from his Select Remains, by Mr. Grinfield, recently published :-“Our journey was through a very mountainous country, presenting a fruitful appearance. In the afternoon it became very romantic, increasingly so as we drew nearer to Eisenach. After a very long ascent, the celebrated Warteburgh came within sight, the castle in which Dr. Luther spent a friendly confinement of two years, and where he was engaged in the blessed work of translating the Scriptures into the German language. I could not withstand the temptation to take a narrower view of this place; and, though it had rained heavily for a considerable part of the day, I let my travelling companions go forward to Eisenach, and walked to the summit of the eminence on which the interesting castle stands. This walk was extremely striking; immense rocks, of grotesque shapes, are jumbled together on the left; thick woods stand on the right; a path, but little trodden, leads across meadows; the dusk of the evening added to the awful grandeur of the scene; and, while my mind was occupied with reflections on the age of chivalry, when this and similar castles were erected by nobles and princes, as places of security against invading neighbours, and as central spots, from which they darted forth to plunder and levy petty warfare, I had a particularly lively representation of Dr. Luther's seizure by masked men, on his return from the Diet of Worms.

“A kind of shudder seized me in this lonely and gloomy walk. The ascent is steep, and required much exertion. At length I met the trodden path, which leads from the town of Eisenach direct to Warteburgh, and fell in with a company who had mounted the hill for the same purpose. The ruins of a former convent, artificially repaired, were shown us on a near and opposite hill. A winding passage, hewn through the rock, leads to the castle. Here I was sorry to hear the sound of vulgar and profane music and dancing, a noisy celebration of the festival (Whitsuntide), a defilement, I thought, of a place whose memory is sacred. A female guide was procured, who introduced us to some apartments in which the complete armour of many knights and princes was preserved ; and a very close view could be taken of the military apparel of the feudal times. We then saw a little chapel, with the pulpit in which Luther had preached. Lastly, we were introduced to the room in which he usually sat. Here the place is shown on the

wall, against which he threw his ink-stand, to banish the devil. The rest of the wall is white-washed; this spot remains untouched. The table at which he sat, and a joint of a whale's spine, which is said to have served for his chair, are also shown, as well as the family table of his father, which has but lately been purchased, and removed thither, by the grand-duke of Weimar.

In addition to these antiquities, garlands of oak branches, inscriptions, a bust of Luther, and other ornaments, were left from the celebration of the 18th of October last ; which was held by a number of students and their professors, as a combined memorial of the battle of Leipsic, or release from political oppression, and the centenary of the Reformation, or release from mental and religious bondage. It is deeply to be regretted, that German literati, and especially divines, regard the Reformation more as the commencemencent of an era for thinking and reasoning freely on religion, than the period when the ever unchangeable and blessed doctrines of the New Testament, and especially the doctrine of salvation by free grace, through our Saviour's merits alone, were again brought to light.”

Fully concurring in the above sentiment, and supposing that Mr. Ramftler's account of Warteburgh would be interesting to your readers, I have taken the trouble of transcribing it, and leave the consideration of its insertion to your judgment. Haverfordwest.

J. BULMER.

ANECDOTES OF WASHINGTON.

(Continued from page 79.) WASHINGTON TAUGHT THE BEING OF A GOD. The father of George was a man who was deeply impressed with the importance of a belief in the existence of a Supreme Being. And before his son was very old, he took the following plain and delightful method of instilling into his mind the same solemn truth.

He prepared, one day, a bed of earth in the garden, in the neighbourhood of a favourite walk of his son. In this, he wrote with a small stick the name of his son, George Washington, at full length, and just in those letters he scattered plentifully some cabbage seed. This being done, he carefully covered the seed, smoothed over the bed, and waited the issue.

In a few days the seed germinated, the plants appeared, and then, quite conspicuously in the bed, appeared in green-nature's writingthe name of George Washington.

One day, not long after, the desired discovery was made. George was taking his favourite course in the garden, either trundling his wagon or riding his prancing-horse--a bean-pole, perhaps, or a broomstick—when his eye caught a sight of the wonder.

He stopped and gazed-spelt the name-hesitated-doubted-read again ; he never saw such a wonder before-never heard of any such thing-could scarcely believe his eyes; yet it was so.

He tarried not long, but bounded towards the house, and soon stood in the presence of his father.

Father !” exclaimed he.
“ Well, George, what's the matter ?"
“Why, father, I've seen such a sight!”

“What? where, my son ?” inquired Mr. Washington, entering with kindness into the animation and surprise of his son.

“ In the garden, sir."
“ And what have you seen strange in the garden ?”

“Oh! come and see, come and see, father; something I never heard of before,” said George.

Although well persuaded what the strange sight would prove to be, Mr. Washington repaired, with more than usual expedition, to the spot; George leading the way, by some rods in advance.

“Here, father, here it is ; did you ever see such a sight before ?.

“What is it you see so strange ?” said Mr. Washington, now approaching, and affecting some wonder at the zeal of George.

" Why, here, father, don't you see these ?'' stooping down, and passing his little fingers over the letters of his name in the bed.

“What, George ?

“Why, my name, father, here, growing in this bed, so green; how came this so ?

“Is it any thing wonderful ?" asked Mr. Washington. “ Why, father, I never heard of any such thing before ; did you ?”

“Why-George-well,” said Mr. Washington, a little hesitating at the unexpected question ; “it is certainly curious."

“But, father, how came it here?” “ May be, by chance, George."

“No, no, father, it could not have come by chance; I never heard of such a thing."

"Well, and why may it not have come by chance ?" “I don't know, father ; but I don't believe it did.” “ We don't believe many things, George, which nevertheless are

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Yes, yes, father ; but I never saw any thing like it before." “ That may be, and yet it may have come by chance." " Well, I never heard of any such thing." " True, and yet might it not happen, although you never heard of it ?”

Ah! but, father, how should little plants grow up just so as to make the letters of my name—all the letters—all in exact order? why was it not your name? Ah! father, why was it any one's name?”

“ It is rather wonderful," said Mr. Washington. Ah! father, I guess," said George, looking up rather inquisitively66 Well, and what do you guess, my son ?.

" Why, I guess somebody did this ; yes, I've just thought; somebody sowed the seed so as to make my name. I guess you did it, father ; did'nt you?

“Well, George, for once you are quite right in your guessing ; I did do it."

“ What for, father?" “What for? why, does it not look beautiful ?” “Yes; but you had some design, father. What did you mean by it?"

“I meant, George," replied Mr. Washington, “ by means of it to teach you an important lesson."

“ What, father ? to plant seeds ?"

“More important than that. I wish to prove to you that there is a great God.”

“ Why, I believe that now, father. Mother has often told me all about that."

“ Well, but, George, how do you know that there is a God ?“ Because mother says there is.”

“ But what I mean, my son, is, how would you prove that there is a God?"

" I never studied that, father, and I don't know.” 6 Well, that is the very point which I wish you to know. Attend, and I will explain.

“A short time since, and you discovered these letters in this bed ; they appeared wonderful; you called me; you wished to know how they came here; I told you they might have come by chance ; this did not satisfy you; can you tell why ?”.

“ Because, it seemed as if somebody must have sowed the seed here just so," said George.

“ True, it does appear so; and now can you tell, my son, why it appears so ?

“ Because,” said George, “ I think somebody had a design in it; and you told me that you had some design in it, father.”

“ Just so, George. I had a design in it; and the marks of design prove that the plants did not grow thus by chance, but that some agent, or being, was concerned in them : is it not so ?

" Yes, sir.”

" Now, then, George, look around; you see this beautiful world ; you see how nicely all things are contrived; what marks of design there are. We have fire to warm us when we are cold; water to drink when we are thirsty ; teeth to eat with ; eyes to see with ; feet to walk with ; in a thousand things we see design. There must then have been a designer-some one who formed these things for a purpose —for some end."

“Ah !” said George, “ I know whom you mean, father.
“ Whom, my son ?"
“ God Almighty. Do you not ?"

“ Yes, I mean Him. It was he that created all the beautiful and convenient things which you see around you."

" Father, did you ever see God ?"
“ No, my child; no man ever saw Him."

“ But if no one ever saw him, how is it known that he made all things ?

And did you see me, when I prepared this bed and sowed this seed ?

“No, sir."

“ Yet you believe that some one prepared and sowed it, because you see the marks of design about the arrangement of the plants. Just so we may infer that some one made this beautiful world which we see,

because we perceive such marks of design about it; and we call that being God.

“God, then, is Lord and Owner of all things, and should be acknowledged and worshipped as such.”

“But, father, isn't this garden yours ? and that house, and all things round us, here?”

“No, my son,” replied Mr. Washington," they are not mine. True, I call them mine, and they are mine to use, rather than my neighbours'; but they are only entrusted to my care. All things belong to God. He created them, and they are his. But he has given the care of them to his creatures here, and will one day require an account of them."

“But, father,” said George, "you built your house, did'nt you ; and is it not yours, then ?”

" Yes, George ; but if I did build it, did I create the materials of it? Who made the trees from which the timber, the boards, the shingles, were obtained ? Whence did the iron come, from which the nails were made ? God formed all. And it was he, too, who formed the oxen, and the horses, and the sheep, and every thing which you see on the farm."

George now became silent, and appeared for a time lost in the reflections of his own mind. A good impression had been made. He seemed to feel the force of the argument which his father had used ; and, from this time, it is believed, never questioned the truth, which lies at the foundation of all religion, that there is a God, the Author and Proprietor of all things.

HIS AFFECTION FOR HIS MOTHER. That a mother should love such a son, as George proved himself to be, and that a son should love such a mother, as Mrs. Washington certainly was, is not at all surprising. From his earliest days, she had exerted her whole influence to embue him with a love of " whatever was lovely and of good report,” and her exertions had not been in vain. How well he repaid her for her kind care may be seen in the following story :

When about fourteen years of age, he became strongly inclined to go to sea, with a view of enlisting in the service of “ the mother country," at that time engaged in a war with France and Spain.

It was surprising that a youth so young, and who had been abroad so little, should have had the moral courage to quit country and friends, on a purpose so full of danger. But, so it was. He was resolved to go. Preparation had been made. A midshipman's birth had been procured for him on board a British man of war, then lying in sight of his mother's house ; and even his trunk was on board.

When the precise time arrived when he was to go, he passed into the sitting-room of his mother, to take his leave of her. She was seated and in tears.

He approached her, and putting his arms about her neck, affectionately kissed her. He was about to bid her “ farewell;" but he hesitated. Her affection and affliction unmanned him. He was young

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