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was preached by the Rev. Mr. Judd, from Matt. ch. xxi. v. 13, and was attended to, as it well deserved, with deep attention by the numerous and respectable auditors assembled to witness and join in the solemn services. In this church too, the sacrament of the Lord's Supper was administered to the clergy and a considerable number of communicants. In the afternoon the service of the church, according to its established usage, was performed, and a most admirable discourse, from Matt. ch. üi. v. 15, adapted to the office of confirmątion, recommending and forcibly urging a due observance of the divine ordinances, was delivered, with his usual pathos and impressive manner, by the Right Rev. Bishop, who confirmed in this church between forty and fifty persons.
This office concluded the services of the day.
On Sunday also, at Schenectady, the Rev. Mr. Stebbins was ordained a Presbyter of the Protestant Episcopal Church.
To-morrow, Wednesday the 27th inst. a confirmation is intended to be holden in Ballstown, and on Friday the 29th, the newly erected Church at Charlton will be consecrated by the Bishop, who, we are informed, is on his way to Utica, to consecrate the Episcopal Church lately built there, and to discharge other Episcopal duties there and in the neigbourhood.
Thus we see, and cannot but be impressed with gratitude and admiration at the sight, places of public worship rapidly increasing with our increasing population and prosperity, in the very heart of our country, which, but a few years since, was a rude and howling wilderness. How greatly must the philosopher, the patriot and the christian exult in the prospect !
The Albany Gazette since informs, that on Sunday, the 7th of September, the Church at Utica was consecrated, with the usual selemnities on such occasions. A number of the Clergy were present, and assisted the Bishop in the services of the day. On the Wednesday following, the solemn rite of Confirmation was also administered at Paris, to a number of serious and devoutly disposed persons of that village.
ANECDOTES OF DR. BARROW. DR. WALTER POPE, in his life of Bishop Ward, of Salisbury, has given some very entertaining anecdotes of that profound divine and mathematician Dr. Barrow, of which we shall here select one or two.
“ We were once going," says the pleasant biographer, “ from Salisbury to London, he in the coach with the bishop, and I on horseback ; as he was entering the coach, I perceived his pockets sticking out nearly half a foot, and said to him, “What have you got in your pockets?” He replied, “ sermons.” “Sermons,” said I ;
give them to me, my boy shall carry them in his portmanteau, and ease you of the luggage. “ But,” said he, “ suppose your boy should be robbed ?" “ That is pleasant,” said I, “ do you think there are parsons padding upon the road for sermons ?"
what have you ?” said he, “it may be five or six guineas ; I hold my sermons at a greater rate, they cost me much pains and time.” * Well then," said I, “ if you will insure my five or six guineas against lay-padders, I'll secure your bundle of sermons against ecclesiastical highwaymen.”
“ This was agreed to ; he emptied his pockets, and filled my portmanteau with divinity, and we had the good fortune to come safe to our journey's end, without meeting either sort of the padders forementioned, and to bring both our treasures to London."
The sermons of this great man are of unusual length, but they are of incomparable excellence. Charles the second used to call him an unfair preacher, because whatever subject he took, he exhausted it, and left nothing for others to prove or illustrate.
“ The sermon of the greatest length,” says Dr. Pope, “was that concerning charity, before the Lord Mayor and Aldermen at the Spital, in speaking which he spent three hours and a half. Being asked, after he came down from the pulpit, whether he was not tired : “ Yes indeed,” said he, “ I began to be weary with standing so long."
ROAD TO HEAVEN. A worthy clergyman in the country, caused a road to be made through his grounds for the accommodation of the neighbourhood. While he was superintending the workmen, a nobleman rode by, whose life was not quite so regular as it ought to have been. As he passed, he accosted the clergyman thus—« Well, Doctor, for all your pains, I take it this is not the road to heaven.” “ True," replied he, “ for if it had been, I should have wondered at seeing your lordship here."
P A piece dated from Long-Island is received, and shall appear in our next.
In the absence of the Editor, the first half sheet of this number was worked off with several errors, which the reader is desired to correct.- Page 321, seventh line from top, for positions read portions. Same page line 14, from bottom; for peace read space. Page 322, line 14, from top, erase it. Page 324, line 20, from bottom, for worketh read waiteth. Page 326, line 14, from top, for hence read have. Same page, line 14, from bottom, for necessary read necessarily.
WHILE now the sun is retiring to southern climes, cutting shorter and shorter the days; and the chilly lengthened nights are covering the ground with hoar frost : While the verdure of the fields and groves is withering, and the falling leaves are strewing the ground, driven about by the cold blast that roars from the north : And while frequently the tempest sounds a prelude to coming winter, this first page of the Magazine resumes its wonted task, to assist the contemplative and pious mind, by such reflections as are suitable to the surrounding scenery of nature. True to the doctrine advanced with the commencement of the year, let it be still remember. ed that the book of nature is the book of God; that each day and each recuring season is but a different page of the same great book ; inculcating a different lesson of wisdom, virtue and piety. We have only to apply our minds seriously to the subject, and the language is clear and intelligible to every capacity ; it is obvious to every understanding
What then is the instruction of the present season? Is it not aptly expressed in the words of the poet,* who for so many ages has been admired as the poet of nature ?
“ Like leaves man's generations rise and fall.
Successive thus we bloom and fade away." In the spring time of life, in our youth we bud and blossom ; we. shoot up with vigour and spirit, with health and activity. In summer, in the maturity of manhood, we clothe ourselves in the full robes of honourable distinction, or in the vainer pursuits of pleasurable gratifications. Firm to our purposes, rooted and grounded strong in resolution, we buffet the storms of adversity ; like the sturdy oak, we labour to stand unmoved : Or in the sunshine of what we vainly call good fortune, we wave and wanton before the gentle gale of prosperity. We lift up our heads crowned with honour and ambition. We seek and obtain command among men: In war or in counsel, we arrive at our wishes; we sway multitudes, or put in motion whole nations. If our dispositions lead us another way, in the walks of science we put on the full flowing robes of fame. We
• Homer. UU
catch at the applauses of the world, and bless ourselves in the acquisition. With this we think ourselves amply repaid for months and years of mental labour. Or again, for worldly gain, we ransack the carth to her utmost bounds That we may lay up treasures in abundance, that we may shine in the trappings of wealth, we explore every sea, and every coast–That we may wear silver and gold, that we may build and inhabit stately mansions, that we may attract about us crouds of envious and gazing admirers, we spend wearisome days and sleepless nights in a round of business. In one or the other of these ways all men are engaged ; in lamenting their defeats, or plu. ming themselves on their success, they spend their hours of reflection.
But look at yonder forest, whose leaves are withered and dropping from the branches, to be driven about by the winds, and you will behold a lively emblem of yourself. The autumn of life has already come, or soon will approach, when the nipping frost of bodily decay, shall chill and damp the flow of your spirits ; shall check the ardour of your desires, enfeeble your frame, weaken your hands that they cannot labour, and bluut your intellectual powers, that they cannot open to you new sources of pursuit. Where then will be those external decorations in which you have so much głoried ? Fame and honours will be fading away; will begin to lose their charins in your eyes ; they will drop off and lie in ruins around you, to be dis. persed by the wintry winds that are coming. Wealth, however you may have clothed yourself with it, as with a garment, cannot administer solid comfort to your heart. It will cease to be charming ; it will be seen to be too fleeting and transitory; and even now, you will behold yourself stript naked and bare as the tree, whose leaves are blown away by the wind. Such is, or soon will be your forlorn and disconsolate view of yourself, if these worldly goods have been your only object of pursuit.
Look once more then at the forests and trees of the field, and see if you cannot discern in them an emblem of what you ought to be. See you not some, while they are shedding their foliage, are also covering the ground with fruits, conducive to the nourishment and comfort of man and beast? They have not grown and flourished during the summer, merely for show : They have not covered themselves for nought, with that full flowing dress, which for the time appears so magnificent to the eye, but which is fleeting and short lived ; but amid the profusion of leaves have been formed those delicious or salutary juices, with which your cup now overflows, or those rich and nourishing fruits with which your table is loaded. These have come to perfection shaded, and in a measure covered from view, by that spreading foliage which the God of nature has ordained: And being thus perfected, they have fallen, or are falling in abundance into your lap.
The like hereunto should be your case. Amid the occupations of time, the pursuit of worldly wealth, honour, or fame, pursuits not forbidden by the will of God, virtue, piety and holiness should have been perfected in the heart. Still and unostentatious goodness ought there to have grown from day to day, that it might be fully
ripe in the autumn of life. Concealed our virtues, if we have them, should not, and indeed cannot be by worldly pursuits, by the business and occupations of life. Yet neither any more than fruit without leaves, can virtue grow up in the heart, without mixing among men, and entering into the business of the world. True virtue is not and cannot be a solitary recluse, shut out from society. It must be intermixed with the more trifling affections of the heart, or it cannot come to any perfection.
This being the case, it is our business to see, that during the season of activity our virtues be, neither on the one hand, scorched by a fiery zeal for the service of God, which admits of no relaxation into the business or enjoyments of the present life; nor on the other, that all nourishment be drawn from them by an unceasing application to the vanities of time ; which however showy at present, like leaves, will soon wither, fall off, and be blown away. Having hit upon this happy inedium during the summer of life ; having persevered therein till the autumn, till the decays of age begin to creep on, our fruits of goodness will ripen to perfection : They will drop in abundance into the lap of those who need. Our example will instruct, our wisdom will teach, and our serenity and peace will inspire those around us with the like course of life. Our fruits will thus afford food for the soul that hungers and thirsts after righteousness; and we shall have provided a store of consolations for ourselves which no power on earth can take away. We shall not be obliged to view ourselves as a leafless tree, barren and comfortless ; but joys will spring up on every hand. The good we have done, the means we yet have of doing more ; and the blessed prospect of a hereafter will add spirits and cheerfulness to our remaining days.
To reflections of this sort the husbandman, in a particular manner, is invited by his daily employments. If with his body, his mind be also occupied as it ought, he cannot miss of a train of thought somewhat of this nature. And if his mind be accustomed to those pious sentiments, and that humble reliance on heaven which becometh man; having now gathered in an abundant crop of the fruits of the earth for man and beast; having well stored his barns, his granary, and cellar; having secured the labour of his hands from the storms and frosts of winter, after the labours of the day are past, seated by his cheerful fire side, he will think over all the mercies of God, and break forth in songs of praise and thanksgiving.
Nor should this be all, for these niercies are intended not only to awaken our gratitude, but to instruct us in the lessons of wisdom. 'Thou then that tillest the ground, and hast now gathered in the fruits thereof, enquire, seek, and learn what are the fruits of thine own heart. It has no doubt been broken up and mellowed by adversity, by sorrows and afflictions, to which all are liable in this evil world. Its affections have also been sometimes invigorated by the sunshine of prosperity, and by the gentle dews and showers which have flowed from the bounties of Providence. The seeds of divine grace have been bountifully thrown into it by the great husbandman. And now what fruit has it brought forth ? And what has been, and is, thy care and assiduity to secure those fruits from the corrupting influence of