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they ought to make it sure indeed, that a negative reply and the motives inducing them to express it, will bear the divine scrutiny. Have they, in the present instance, been solicited to expunge from their creed one article, or to abandon one religious observance ? Has it been intimated, that, by becoming our partners, they would, in fairness and courtesy, be precluded from exercising, as individuals, the right to dem tect or expose what they account error? By no means : the authors of the invitation virtually say, “ On many subjects, less or more important, we are not agreed among ourselves; and, apart from this particular connexion, we present the same diversity of doctrine, discipline, and modes of worship which we maintained before we entered it, though, perhaps, with an additional infusion of moderation and brotherly love. What we profess, and what we are, in reference to points of controversy, is left with each other's consciences and with the universal Judge. So far, and no farther, we merge our peculiar views; and it is in order that we may more efficiently advance a common cause. Come, therefore, and assist us; our Scriptures are your Scriptures ; and the people whom we aim to benefit by them are our brethren and your brethren also. It is the inspired and unexpounded volume ; it is, allowing for the imperfect qualifications of translators, nothing else ; in dispersing which among “ all the families of the earth” we earnestly request your warm concurrence. If we own the desirableness of putting men at large in possession of the “ oracles of God,” how can we deprecate the only contrivance hitherto devised for effecting that magnificent consummation; and if we reprove schism, how can we dissent from the safest and most salutary coalition with which the otherwise divided church of Christ is acquainted !
2. But our attention is required to a second foe ; his name his Avarice. He indicates, from day to day, a mixture of uneasiness and displeasure; he perceives in each petitioner an assailant ; he feels as if he were born to be annoyed; he forebodes penury, and resolves that its arrival shall, at least, not be accelerated by the profusion of his gifts. Can, then, all that Covetousness would gain, and Avarice hoard, save its insatiable possessor from the final forfeiture? In the mean time, his folly is no less apparent than his criminality; he is disliked, he can scarcely escape the stings of remorse, and he provokes the Being who, whatever aggravated penalties he may inflict on the notoriously injurious, will neither acquit nor spare the wilfully “unprofitable.”
3. There is yet another foe; nor the less formidable because his aspect announces no hostility. His name is Indifference; when he touches the heart, he benumbs its sensibilities; so that, if it hates not, neither does it love ; if it lays no violent hands on the wounded, it yet suffers them to bleed to death. Let us discourage all its advances ; lest, creeping on by insensible degrees, it produce a moral paralysis. It is certain that some approvers of our plan are not enrolled among its promoters. They seem to be little more than lookers on ; neither collecting, nor subscribing, nor searching out the wants even of their domestic circles, nor interesting themselves in these anniversaries, nor acquainting themselves with the Society's operations, either Foreign or Domestic.
This is precisely what our professed antagonists will rejoice to see; for, by accomplishing, in no small degree, their object, it will excuse them from the expense, the toil, and the agitation, of an unpopular warfare. Thus, it will thin our ranks, crumble away our energies, and check our progress. Be it ours to suppress every ungracious feeling, to snap asunder the bonds of selfishness, and to start from the pillow of inglorious repose. Gratitude to the Most High, pity for a sinning, suffering, and a dying world, the certainty of being right, and, through the divine blessing, useful, the shortness of our earthly career, and the quality of that harvest which it may be our privilege instrumentally to swell—these are the elevated and holy motives which ought to secure us from the infections of Bigotry, Avarice, and Indifference, and to awaken unceasing and augmented ardour.
Whene'er he knew a moment's sadness,
And every thought was mirth and gladness-
The deepest, purest, without measure?". If there is any one pleasure that exceeds another, methinks it is found in revisiting the home of early youth, treading over the consecrated ground where the gambols of childhood were innocently performed, and mingling in the society of former associates. Over such a scene I have been wandering, solemnly meditating, as I entered the village church-yard and slowly read the marble monuments of many with whom I was once familiar, on the brevity of human life and the fleetness of time. Oh! it is a solemn subject to reflect on the past in such a situation, where the names of the buried dead recall and picture to the mind instances that were otherwise lost to memory---recollections that awaken sympathy and commiseration for departed friends, who started with us in the pilgrimage of life, but have fallen asleep in the morning of their anticipated journey.
It was nigh evening, and the setting sun reflected its radiant beams on the church steeple, when I arrived at this hallowed spot; but being somewhat fatigued with the toils of the day, I retired early to rest. The morning came, and being influenced by curiosity to witness the “ march of improvement” in the place of my nativity, I left the feast of slumber, and hastened to the scene of school-boy rambles. Ah! how changed! The sunny places of my boyhood-how materially altered! The magic power of memory conducts me back to the green hills that surrounded the neat little school-house, which, but a few summers since, was the resort of many a thoughtless, buoyant heart. The “ iron tooth of time” has erased many an object I now see in the retrospect. I look-those hills have nearly passed away-the tall poplars have fallen-and yonder, where the meandering streamlet gently flowed from a distant mountain rock, whose crystal waters have often refreshed us after a tiresome race to its summit-I look, and find its stream no more, and I am a stranger in the midst of new tenements. Yet again I look, and behold near at hand the white cottage of my schoolmaster, which has withstood the revolutions round about it, and find it still the humble residence of my aged and revered tutor.
Many years had elapsed since I saw the instructor of my youth; nor had I heard whether he was in the “ land of the living," or had exchanged time for eternity, and gone to receive the reward promised in Holy Writ to those who persevere to the end in working righteousness. I approached his dwelling. The windows were half closed; silence reigned, and not a sound fell upon my ear, save the sweet notes of a tuneful canary in its cage, and the rustling leaves of a weeping willow fanned by a mild soft breeze. I stood within the little white-washed. fence; and after inquiring if Mr. - yet resided there, I was again introduced to his memory. He sat alone, seemingly pondering over the book that lay closed before him, which was a large family Bible. As he raised his head, partly bald and whitened with age, I saw a tear glistening in his eye. It was the tear of a sorrowing widower, musing in his loneliness, whose countenance bespoke feelings language could not express; and, after a deep-drawn sigh, he informed me that his partner had lately been taken from him by the “ disease which walketh in darkness, and the destruction that wasteth at noon-day," and he felt himself alone in the world. “A kind Providence has been with me from infancy, and I should not now repine at affliction-but I cannot ” It was enough ; the chord of affection was touched, and words could be uttered but in vain. She who had shared with him in storm and sunshine, had now gone to rest; the companion of his bosom was sleeping in the “home of the worm ;” and when I saw his feeble steps, and heard his low accents, and marked the imprint of infirmity upon his brow, I had strong evidence that my schoolmaster would soon meet his partner where tribulation, and sorrow, and death are felt and feared no more.
We parted, perhaps for ever; and as I took his withered hand, I noticed more distinctly the same intelligence of countenance that he possessed in other and happier years. Farewell! friend of my early youth ! the words of thy counsel are with me in their truth. Adieu ! associates of my childhood! many of you have gone before me, and the “ narrow house of breathless darkness" receives the forms who have joined me in boyhood's revelry; and the aspirations and hopes of futurity, that gave brightness and animation to their eyes, have receded in forgetfulness. Farewell, my native home!
“Whate'er of valley, or of hill,
In other lands I see-
J. J. R.
LITTLE SAMUEL. I ONCE heard of a little boy, named filled with gratitude and love to him ; Samuel, about ten years of age, who and although he expected soon to leave lived with his parents, in the town of his father's house, yet he was happy. S-a. He attended the Sabbath-school The morning came, and Samuel went in that place, and his teacher often told down stairs to meet his father. He him of the goodness of God, in sending pleasantly wished him“Good morning,” his only beloved Son into this world, to and said, (with tears in his eyes,) “Fa. die for sinners. He told him, also, of ther, I cannot give up my Saviour. If the Saviour, and that it was his duty to you wish it, I will leave my home, and love him and obey his commands. It seek one among strangers; but my Bible was not a great while before Samuel tells me, “When thy father and mother began to think of God, and he prayed forsake thee, the Lord will take thee up."" to him to forgive his sins; for, though He then conversed with his dear parents, he was young, yet he had often broken and begged them to turn unto the Lord. his commands. He read, in the Bible, He told them that they were sinners, what he must do, to become one of God's and entreated them to repent of their children. Soon, he took delight in 'sins, and make their peace with God. prayer : he loved to think of God, to Before he left them, he asked permission read of him, to obey his commands. to pray with them. His parents had He loved the Sabbath day, and was never knelt to pray to God, and now the always sorry when any thing prevented family altar was erected by their little him from going to the Sabbath-school, son. What a solemn sight! How pleaswhere he might hear more of God.
ing must it have been, in the sight of Now the parents of Samuel were not God, to see this dear child endeavouring Christians; that is, they did not love God, to lead his parents to Jesus. They knelt they never prayed to him, and they were together, and Samuel poured out his very sorry when they found Samuel had heart in earnest prayer to God, for the begun to love him and inquire so much souls of his parents. The Lord heard his of him. For a few weeks, they said no. prayer, and when he rose, expecting to thing to Samuel about it; but one even leave them, his parents affectionately ing his father called him, and said, “Sa embraced him, and said, “What shall muel, do you intend always to spend as we do to be saved ?" His joy was much time as you have done in reading greater than we can imagine, and soon the Bible and prayer to God?” Samuel both of his parents were rejoicing with said he hoped he always should; for he him in the Saviour. loved to do so. “ Well,” said his father, There are some children, who, like “if you mean always to do so, you must , Samuel, have begun to love the Saviour, no longer live with us. You must either while their parents are still “ strangers give up the Saviour, or you must leave to God." Perhaps they, too, meet with my house." His father gave him until some opposition from those whom they the next day to think of what he had tenderly love, and, having no one to ensaid, and Samuel went immediately to courage them in the paths of religion, his chamber. Oh! how he must have are almost inclined to give up the Savi. felt, to be compelled to leave his dear our. Dear children, (if I am addressing parents, whom he tenderly loved, or give any such,) if you forsake God, he will up the Saviour!
forsake you ; but, if you continue to And how do you think, dear children love and serve him, you will find him who read this story, that Samuel spent · far better than an earthly parent can be. his time that night? He did not go to Pray earnestly that God would keep you sleep, but took his Bible, and there read from yielding to temptation, and pray what Jesus Christ said concerning little also that your dear friends may become children, and then prayed that God Christians. Let the example of Samuel would direct him what to do, and bless encourage you to “go and do likewise." him. He thought of what the Saviour There are other children, and many had done for his soul, and his heart was such I know, who have enjoyed religious
instruction, and yet understand so little of their duty to God, that, when urged to give their hearts to Jesus, and begin to love him, readily reply, “I do love God." To such, let me say a few words. You love your earthly parents, and yield cheerfully to their wishes, and willingly obey their commands. You love to be in their company, and converse with them. If they are absent, you love to think of them and hear from them; and when out of their sight, you remember their commands, and do that which you think will please them. You feel in some degree thankful, when you witness their acts of self-denial to render you happy, and endeavour to show it by an affectionate return. Now, how do you show your love to God? Do you cheerfully obey all His commands, even, when in opposition to your wishes ? Do you love prayer to God better than conversation with your companions? Do you love to think of Jesus Christ; of his love to sinners, and his kindness in inviting even little children to become his friends ? And do you love to read the Bible, which tells you of your duty to God? Do you“ remember the Sabbath. day, to keep it holy?" Are you grateful to God for the privileges and blessings he
has given you? Do you thank him for all the favours he has bestowed upon you, and show your gratitude by endeavouring to love him, and to imitate, in all your conduct, the example of Christ? Remember, dear children, that all who sincerely love God, obey his command. ments; and do not think that you love him, while you sin against him. Forget, for a little while, your sports and companions, and think of the goodness of God, in placing you in a Christian land, and teaching you the way to be happy. Think, how often you have disregarded these privileges, and broken the Sabbath-day. Above all, think how much the Saviour has done for your souls; and will you refuse to love him? You treat not your earthly parents so unkindly. O! do not treat the Saviour so any longer. Repent of your sins; give your hearts to God, praying him to forgive them, and to wash your souls in the blood of Christ, which cleanseth from all sin.” Say unto him, “My Father, be thou the guide of my youth ;' and resolve that, whatever others do, you will serve the Lord. Like Samuel, of whom I have told you, do this now; and, like him, you will be happy.
E. R. S.
LOVE NEVER SLEEPS. " Love never sleeps !" The mother's eye
Bends o'er her dying infant's bed, And as she marks the moments fly, While death creeps on with noiseless
tread, Faint and distress'd, she sits and weeps, With beating heart. “Love never
sleeps !" Yet, e'en that sad and fragile form
Forgets the tumults of her breast ; Despite the horror of the storm,
O'erburden'd nature sinks to rest; But o'er them both another keeps His midnight watch. “Love never
sleeps !" Around, above, the angel bands
Stoop o'er the care-worn sons of men ; With pitying eyes, and eager hands,
They raise the soul to hope again ; Free as the air, their pity sweeps The storm of time. * Love never
sleeps !" .
And round, beneath, and over all,
Is answer'd, and relief is given ; In hours of woe, when sorrow steeps The heart in pain, “He never sleeps!" Oh! God of love! our eyes to thee, Tired of the world's false radiance,
turn! And, as we view thy purity,
We feel our hearts within us burn; Convinced, that in the lowest deeps Of human ill, “ Love never sleeps !"
TO FREDERICK. Frederick, it's Sabbath-day, my son ;
Hang up your little drum, Lay by your sword and rocking-horse,
And to your mother come.