In the beginning was the Word: Athwart the chaos-night

It gleam'd with quick, creative power,
And there was life and light.

Thy Word, O God! is living yet;
Amid earth's restless strife
New harmony creating still

And ever higher life.

And as that Word moves surely on,

The light, ray after ray,

Streams further out athwart the dark,
And night grows into day.

O Word, that broke the stillness first,
Sound on and never cease
Till all earth's darkness be made light,
And all her discord peace!

Till, wail of woe and clank of chain,
And bruit of battle still'd,

The world with thy great music's pulse,
O Word of Love! be thrill'd.

Till selfishness, and strife, and wrong,
Thy summons shall have heard ;
And thy creation be complete,
O thou Eternal Word!

-Liberty Bell.

S. LONGFELLOW.

THE STANDARD OF TRUTH.
"When the enemy cometh in like a flood, the Spirit of the
Lord shall lift up a standard against him."-Isa. lix. 19.
"Thou hast given a banner unto them that feared thee,
that it might be displayed because of the truth."-Psal. lx. 4.
I SAW in a vision the banner unfurl'd
Against the usurper-the prince of this world;
And methought I beheld, ere the fight was begun,
From standard to standard the waverers run,
For the standards are many, truth's banners are one.
The faithful who round it had taken their stand,
Might seem but a handful 'gainst hosts as the sand;
Yet dreadless the champions, who, seal'd for the fight,
Had donn'd the white garments and armour of light,
In the peaceful assurance of heavenly might.
Men looked on their faces in wonder and dread,
For a radiance unearthly around them was shed;
And the banner above them was fair to behold,
With the lamb, and the cross, and the dove on its fold,
Whose wings were of silver, her feathers of gold.
They were number'd by fifties, but little men knew
That armies unnumber'd were rank'd with the few;
Clouds veil'd them from sight, but their goings I heard
Like a breeze o'er the forest, ere tempests are stirr'd,
And the lightnings and thunders leap forth at His word.
'Twas the breaking ere storm blast-the pause ere the fight,
While in prayerful aspirings they gathered their might;
And they counted the cost, as the prudent should do,
But they counted it gain, for their venture was true,
And the work that was set them they long'd but to do.
Weak women I saw, and young children find grace
To take in the band of the saintly their place;
With the chosen and faithful their names were enroll'd,
And I knew though their life-blood should crimson its fold,
That the banner He giveth was firm in their hold.

They were seal'd for endurance, the cross was the sign
That, trac'd on each forehead, so brightly did shine;
And meek faces wax'd pale, in the depth of their thought,
And the joy that upheld them with trembling was fraught,
As the Spirit within them to steadfastness wrought.
They ate of the bread, and they drank of the wine,
The food as of angels for strength'ning Divine,
And in meekness majestic they stood as a rock,
That moves not to meet, and yet fears not the shock,
When the billows of ocean insultingly mock.

O the thrill of their silence above and below,
Sent gladness through heaven, and fear through the foe,
For the Lamb was their leader, the Lamb was their Lord,
And in lamb-like obedience they waited His word,
"Till a voice," to confirm for the conflict, "was heard."

Methought I was with them, a gazer no more,
But a trembling expectant the foe was before,
And a rush of his hosts, as the roar of the sea,
Might be heard from afar, yet we turn'd not to flee,
But abode in our trust, the Salvation to see.

We knelt in aw'd stillness, awaiting the Hand
That should strengthen the weakest in battle to stand,
And a shadow fell o'er us, as of the Most High,
And we fear'd not the time the o'erflowing pass'd by;
It paus'd-and the banner was streaming on high!

It stream'd o'er the victors, the proud waves were stay'd,
"Thus far shalt thou come, and no farther," was said;
At the breath of Jehovah the depths were congeal'd,
The sea, as of crystal, his judgments reveal'd,
And there rose o'er the silence the song of the seal'd.

OCEAN PENNY POSTAGE.

THE WIDOWED EMIGRANT'S PETITION.

[These verses arose out of a very affecting incident which occurred in a family well known to the writer. A labouring man, residing near Modbury, in Devonshire, had given way sadly to intemperance. He became, however, one of the happy converts to the teetotal reformation, and proved an excellent husband and father. About two years since he sailed with his family to Australia, where he settled very comfortably, and his friends in England were cheered by receiving the most encouraging accounts from him and his wife. Scarcely, however, had nine months elapsed after his arrival, ere he was laid down by fever, which proved fatal, and his poor widow, with her little ones, are left to struggle alone with all the difficulties and trials of an emigrant's life in a strange land. To one thus situated it may readily be conceived how precious would be the privilege of frequent and cheap communication with her aged mother and other friends in her old home country.]

O'ER the deep blue ocean sailing, I forsook Old England's strand,

Seeking for a happier fireside in Australia's distant land; Child and husband were beside me, as I cross'd the boundless main

She may live to be my comfort-him I ne'er shall see again. Strong to work for me and Mary, was my husband's willing hand;

Nerv'd by hope, and fond affection for his little household band;

And at ev'ning, when the labours of the toiling day were done, Home he gladly brought the earnings which his manly arm had won.

Peace and plenty smil'd upon us, bade our hearthstone-fire burn bright,

As we gaily gather'd round it, ere we rested for the night, Talking of our brighten'd prospects, of the dear ones far away, Hoping we again might see them on some happy future day.

With my husband by me sitting-Mary prattling on his kneeThere are thousands in Old England who might well have envied me;

But, alas! a change was coming!-scarce nine months had glided by,

When the husband of my bosom, fever-struck, lay down to die.
Widow'd in a land of strangers, sad and lonely is my lot,
Far 'cross the billowy ocean stands my mother's humble cot;
Oft I sigh to hear from England of the dear ones o'er the sea,
Long to read their words of pity for my orphan-child and me.

I must work with busy fingers that myself and child may live; Small the boon, but Ŏ! how precious that I ask you now to give;

Will you cheaply send my letters to my mother, poor and old? That she oft may read the tidings of the wanderer from her fold.

Will you cheaply send her answers, so that often I may hear Of the few still left to love me, and my lonely path to cheer? Grant an Ocean Penny Postage, and Britannia's name will be Linked for ever with a blessing, by my orphan-child and me. E. B. P.

THOUGH a thousand be against him, if conscientious convictions are full and clear, the Christian must not yield them. Though friends are dissevered, and ties overthrown, he must stand on his conviction; for God are broken, and interests are damaged, and hopes are has given to him the conscience, that so he may do.

ULSTER PROVINCIAL SCHOOL. THE Annual Examination of the children at the Ulster Provincial School, took place on the Seventh-day preceding the Quarterly Meeting, in the beginning of 3d Month. It was attended by a considerable number of Friends, including several from a distance. Some judicious improvements have been recently effected on the premises. Both house and grounds were in excellent order, and everything wore a cheerful appearance. The Report of the Committee appointed to examine the children, and inspect the state of the Institution, was most satisfactory; and indicated the care that had been exercised in the different departments.

The children had a neat and orderly appearance. An interesting and encouraging circumstance was mentioned in the Report-That a sum of £70 had been subscribed and forwarded to the School by some young men residing in Dublin, who had received their education at the Institution, on learning that its funds required some assistance; thus evincing, in a gratifying manner, their value of the benefit they had derived from it. This donation enabled the Committee to provide, during the past year, baths and improved washing accommodation for the use of the children, &c.

The want of a suitable Library, as well as the means of imparting useful scientific instruction, having been felt, a subscription was reported to have been opened for supplying these deficiencies; and a considerable sum had been collected, to which many, who had derived benefit from the Institution, had contributed liberally.

On the whole, it is gratifying to be enabled to state, that this valuable Seminary appears to be efficiently and agreeably conducted.

INFLUENCE OF BANKING ON MORALITY.-Banking exercises a powerful influence upon the morals of society; it tends to produce honesty and punctuality in pecuniary engagements. Bankers, for their own interest, always have a regard to the moral character of the party with whom they deal; they inquire whether he be honest or tricky, industrious or idle, prudent or speculative, thrifty or prodigal, and they will more readily make advances to a man of moderate property and good morals, than to a man of large property, but of inferior reputation. Thus the establishment of a bank in any place immediately advances the pecuniary value of a good moral character. There are numerous instances of persons having risen from obscurity to wealth, only by means of their moral character, and the confidence which that character produced in the mind of their banker. It is not merely by way of loan or discount that a banker serves such a person. He also speaks well of him to those persons who may make inquiries respecting him; and the banker's good opinion will be the means of procuring him a higher degree of credit with the parties with whom he trades. These effects are easily perceivable in country towns; and even in London, if a house be known to have engaged in gambling or smuggling transactions, or in any other way to have acted discreditably, their bills will be taken by the bankers less readily than those of an honourable house of inferior property. It is thus that bankers perform the functions of public conservators of the commercial virtues. From motives of private interest, they encourage the industrious, the prudent, the punctual, and the honest, while they discountenance the spendthrift and the gambler, the liar and the knave. They hold out inducements to uprightness which are not disregarded by even the most abandoned. There

is many a man who would be deterred from dishonesty by the frown of a banker, though he might care but little for the admonitions of a bishop.-Gilbert's Practical Treatise on Banking.

SECOND MONTH, 1851.

1st. At Stoke Newington, ISABELLA, wife of Alfred Tyler, a 5th. At Huntworth, near Bridgewater, REBECCA, wife of son; who was named Joseph John. Francis J. Thompson, a daughter.

10th. At Aberdelghy, near Lisburn, SUSAN LECKY, wife of Joshua P. Richardson, a daughter; who was named 13th. MARY, wife of Benjamin Townson, Islington, Liverpool, Catharine Josephine. a daughter; who was named Mary Ellen. 16th. At East Dulwich, Peckham Rye, MARY ANNA, wife of Henry Barrett, a daughter; who survived but a few hours. 19th. At Springfield, Belfast, MATILDA, wife of Henry Hillary 22d. At Mansfield, ANNIS, wife of Thomas Hartas, a daughter; Bell, a son; who was named Henry Hillary.

who was named Anna.

At Chapmore End, near Hertford, JOSEPH HAGGER WEST, in his 76th year.

18th. At Belfast, JAMES ROBINSON, aged about 24. 22d. At Low Bentham, ALICE, widow of the late John Atkinson, aged 76.

...

At Bridport, MARY HEWETT, wife of Silvanus Stephens, aged 34. 23d. At Crosby Green, West Derby, in her 78th year, BRIDGET SILL, of St. Ann Street, Liverpool, widow of the late James Sill.

At Belfast, WILLIAM FAREN, aged 33.

26th. At Rheban, in the county of Kildare, JOHN HAUGHTON, aged 87. He lived in the same humble manner, from infancy to old age, "Keeping the even tenor of his way; remarkable for his hospitality and genuine simplicity of manners." His funeral was attended to the burial-ground at Ballitore, a distance of ten miles, by a large concourse of those who loved and respected him, where a becoming 28th. At York, after a short illness, JOHN BLECKLY, aged solemnity was observed.

about 81.

There are thirty newspapers published in Boston, eight of which are daily. Besides these, there are a number of magazines and reviews, including the North American Review-a work of European as well as American reputation. Its principal literary societies are, the American academy of arts and sciences, the Massachusetts historical society, and the Boston natural history society, which has a fine cabinet. The medical branch of Harvard University has its seat in Boston, and schools are numerous, and in general well conducted. There are also a number of religious and charitable societies in the city.

"The harbour is esteemed one of the best in the United States, being spacious, safe, and easily defended. The passage to it is not more than four miles wide, with several islands obstructing it, so that the main entrance will scarcely admit two vessels to pass abreast, while 500 may ride at anchor within, with a good depth of water. The outer harbour has about forty small islands, fifteen of which afford excellent pasturage. The wharfs are extensive, commodious, and some of them of great length, with ranges of lofty brick warehouses. The trade of Boston is extensive. The imports, which consist principally of woollen, cotton, linen, and silk manufactures, sugar, coffee, indigo, hemp, and iron, amounted, in 1840, to about $16,000,000 (£3,600,000); and the exports, chiefly fish and fish oils, salted meat, flour, soap, and candles, to about $10,000,000 (£2,250,000). The tonnage, in the same year, was 220,243 tons. The export of ice has become, during late years, an important branch of trade in Boston, upwards of 70,000 tons having been shipped at that port in 1847. There are, besides, a packet line of large steam ships between Boston and Great Britain, and other packet lines to every port of importance throughout the United States. Six different lines of railway connect Boston with various places in the state, including Lowell, Worcester, and Providence. A line also communicates with the state of Maine, passing through New Hampshire.

"Boston has a history of some interest. It was founded in 1630, by the settlers established at Charlestown, on the shore of Massachusetts Bay. The name was given in compliment to JOHN COTTON, a persecuted clergyman from Boston in Lincolnshire. It was here that the revolutionary movement, which terminated in the independence of America, first commenced, several of its most active leaders being natives of the city. Boston was the scene also of hostilities connected with that event. The royalist forces under General Howe, were here blockaded by the American troops under General Putnam, but the latter were ultimately dislodged from their position on Dorchester heights, after a serious loss on the part of the British. During this action, usually named Bunker's Hill, fought in June 1775, Charlestown, a suburb of the city, and the scene of action, was set on fire by the latter, and entirely consumed. A month afterwards, Boston was invested by Washington, and the British General eventually (March 1776), compelled to evacuate the town. The city is governed by a mayor, eight aldermen, and a common council of forty-eight members. The wellknown philosopher, Benjamin Franklin, was a native of Boston, having been born there on January 17, 1706. Population (1840), 93,383; (1845), 114,366."

Before finally taking leave of Boston, it would be an omission to pass unnoticed one of its most delightful places of resort, called the "Common," a large public park and garden, of from seventy to eighty acres. This is a great place of promenade, and often crowded with people. It is nearly a mile and a half in circumference, and surrounded by an iron railing which cost the city about 75,000 dollars, outside of which are spacious

streets lined by handsome buildings. The ground forming this park is gently undulated, and delightfully shaded with trees of various kinds, some of which are more than one hundred years old, and a neat walk extends throughout its entire circumference. This spot, which is greatly admired by strangers, is the pride of all Bostonians. It includes a beautiful sheet of water, with an elegant fountain ornamenting its centre. In the cool of the evening, I enjoyed a lingering walk through this shady enclosure, which would have been less tinctured with alloy could I have let sleep in oblivion the painful events recorded in history's page, as having transpired within its immediate precincts now nearly two hundred years ago. In Boston, at the time referred to, circumstances occurred of peculiarly painful interest to the Society of Friends; the melancholy recital of which is revolting to humanity, and bears upon the face of it, in these happier days of religious freedom' and toleration, and of comparative ease from outward suffering, more the appearance of romance than of real historical truth. What whippings, scourgings, plunderings, imprisonments, cutting off of ears, and almost every species of cruel punishments, even to death itself, were here endured by the early Quakers! Yes! it was here, on the very spot where I now musingly lingered, that four of my fellow-professors were publicly suspended from the gallows for bearing a faithful and unflinching testimony to the Truth as it is in Jesus! One of them a gentle female too, who is described as a grave and comely woman, fearing the Lord, and of good report, the wife of a respectable inhabitant of Rhode Island, and the mother of several children.'

When it is remembered that the persecutors and murderers of the Quakers in New England were themselves refugees from the mother country, to escape the rod of the oppressor there, the case appears throughout truly anomalous; and it is difficult to divine what motive could stimulate to such extreme severity towards individuals so apparently harmless as their victims

were.

The Puritans, who were the perpetrators of the persecution alluded to, consisted, for the most part, of persons who, in the days of the first Charles ! and his bishops, not feeling easy to conform to the mode of national worship, and either unable, or, as they supposed, uncalled upon, to sustain the penalty attached to nonconforming, had fled for safety to Anierica, where they succeeded in establishing themselves in ease and authority.

However pure the motives of the Puritans may have been in many respects, there existed amongst the community a great amount of bigotry and intolerance. So rigid were their rulers for the "observance of the Sabbath," that all persons were forbidden to run, or even to walk, "except reverently to and from church on Sunday," or to profane the day by sweeping their houses, cooking their victuals, or shaving their beards. Mothers were commanded not even to kiss their children on that sacred day! Robbery was punished by branding for the first offence, flogging for the second, and death for the third. If any crime was committed on the First day of the week, the ear of the culprit was cut off, in addition to the regular penalty for other days in the week. Blasphemy was punished with death; heresy with banishment. Persons wearing a dress which the grand jury should deem above their station, were, in the first instance, admonished, and in the second fined. Women cutting their hair like men's, or suffering it to hang loosely on their faces, were also fined. Such were a few only of the most prominent laws of the Puritan settlers in New England, framed by high professors of religion; who, as has been observed, had themselves (or their predecessors) fled their native land to seek a refuge from persecution,