parental instruetion, she habitually manifested a most amiable disposition, united with great purity of manners and correctness of life. She was never addieted to those fashionable follies, which often form a powerful and too successful attracfemales. tion to young For There was a natural sobriety and steadiness in her character, which, with the constant discharge of filial and relative duties, induced the belief in the minds of those, whose views of religion were superficial, that she needed no further change. On this subject, however, a very different opinion was entertained by herself. the last few years of her life her mind was deeply exereised on the subjeet of religion. She felt and acknowledged herself to be a sinner, coudemued by the law of God. She realized her need of an interest in an Almighty Saviour, and cordially accepted the free offer of merey through his atoning blood. The sincerity of her faith and repentance was fully manifested, not only in her general conversation, but in the uncommon patience and resignation with which she endured a painful sickness, and in the peace and joy with which she met the stroke of death. Although she entertained a hope of an interest in the Saviour sometime previous to her last sickness, and had frequently attended meetings of inquiry, she did not make a profession of her faith till a short time previous to her death. On the last Sabbath in August, but three weeks before her dissolution, she came into the house of God, with a trembling frame and a hectie glow upon her cheek, and, with one of her sisters and four other youthful companious, avouched the Lord to be her God and Jesus her Saviour, in the presence of a large assembly, whose tears evinced their sympathy in the affecting transaction. Such a scene was never before witnessed in that place. Cold must have been the heart that was not moved on that occasion! Who could see, without emotion, a young person, fully realizing herself to be on her way to the grave, coming from her sick chamber into the sanctuary, for the first and last time to comply with the dying command of her blessed lord! The astonishing composure, with which she listened to the services of that day, in which her own peculiar and affecting case was continy ally intermingled, will not soon be forgotten; neither will the impression be soon obliterated of the almost supernatural fortitude, with which she remarked, at the close of the service, which to many minds would have been peculiarly trying, that she had enjoyed a delightful season. The anticipation of her approaching dissolution was soon realized. In twenty days from the time of her solemn surrender of herself to her Saviour at his table, she surrendered her immortal spirit into his hands. She is gone, we cannot doubt, from the Church militant, to the Church triumphant, from the worship of God in his earthly courts to join the assembly of the first born whose names are written in heaven. ORIGINAL ANECDOTES.—AN INFANT'S PRAYER. CHRISTIAN parents should early direct the attention of their children to the true source of their wretchedness and danger, the sinful affections which lurk within them; and if favourable opportunities are sought, deep impressions may be made. A very young child, when angry, was asked by an affectionate Christian parent, if she was not unhappy. To this the child assented, and inquired what was the reason. She was told that a naughty disposition in her bosom made her unhappy. Impressed with the truth she asked if she could not tear it out of her bosom. The answer` was, no. Can't you tear it out, Papa ? said the child. No my dear, said ber father, but your great Papa in heaven can remove it. When the child was put to bed and her mother was supposed to have left her, but before she had actually withdrawn beyond the compass of her little voice, she heard a sigh and a petition from the infant with her hands pressed together, "Please great Papa in heaven take away the naughty out of my boson." DEFECTS IN PREACHING. Some Ministers have so little directness in their appli cation of religious truths as to produce little effect. This kind of preaching may be illustrated by the aim once taken when firing into a flock of pigeons. The sportsman instead of taking aim at an individual object, as the pigeons were clustered together on the limbs of a bush, aimed among them, discharged his piece,-none were killed, nor more than slightly alarmed. 1 FOR THE MONITOR. AN APOSTROPHE TO MY DECEASED BROTHER I loved thee for thy feeling heart, My brother My brother. The grove we visited so oft, My brother, My brother. The little cot we loved so well, Where piety and friendship dwell, - Will soon be desolate and still, My brother. For age and ever anxious care My brother. SHE lives alone to meet me here, But soon, ah! scon she too-must die; My brother, I cannot live if, o'er thy grave, My brother. My brother. But all alone I'll wander o'er, My brother, My brother. Oft will I weep upon thy tomb; My brother. And when a few more suns shall rise,- I'll visit thee in Paradise, My brother. TO CORRESPONDENTS AND PATRONS. AN Indian Tale, in the style of Lights and Shadows of Scottish Life; Alpha; and M. H. with several pieces from former correspondents and two without signatures will be inserted in our pages. If a piece be not directly published, the conclusion must not be drawn that it is rejected. Earlier communcations; regard for variety in the subjects; or a press of arti●les less seasonable, if defered ; may occasion more delay than we could wish. L.& K. have been received. Several manuscripts have been put into our hands with liberty to make extracts from them. We are gratified with the increase of our Correspondents; and we are happy in being able to assure our increasing Patrons that some writers of distinguished excellence, have pledged themselves for occasional contributions. THE MONITOR. VOL. I. NOVEMBER, 1823. NO. 11. FOR THE MONITOR. SOME OF THE PRACTICAL EFFECTS OF AN UNRE STRAINED IMAGINATION. WHOEVER has inspected the operations of his own mind, and passed along the train of its ever-varying feelings, as modified by the remembrance of the past, its views of the present, and anticipation of the future, will find that he has been the sport of constant illusion; that though the eye of his reason may have been refined by science, though he may have gazed on truth till he almost grew to its likeness, he has been more or less deceived by phantoms; though he may have burst from the narrow circle of his own views, and been enlightened by the intelligence of other minds, he has scarce ever caught one glimpse of the naked realities of life. His fancy has either banished truth from his mind, or discoloured it with falsehood;-has thrown glory over all the prospects of life, or arrayed them in horror;—has made brighter the brightness of hope, or added new terrors to the blackness of despair. Fancy has given fascination to the dullness of ordinary scenes, or turned them to repulsive loathing. It has crowded solitude with being,and it has withdrawn the mind from the midst of noise, and occupation, and interest of actual life, to indulge in the reveries of its own creation,-to feed on those emanations of spirit, which go forth from the restless activity of its own power. The most common illusion, by which it practises on the mind, is the elevation of its hopes to the enjoyment |