* A Distributed Proofreaders Canada eBook * This eBook is made available at no cost and with very few restrictions. These restrictions apply only if (1) you make a change in the eBook (other than alteration for different display devices), or (2) you are making commercial use of the eBook. If either of these conditions applies, please contact an FP administrator before proceeding. This work is in the Canadian public domain, but may be under copyright in some countries. If you live outside Canada, check your country's copyright laws. IF THE BOOK IS UNDER COPYRIGHT IN YOUR COUNTRY, DO NOT DOWNLOAD OR REDISTRIBUTE THIS FILE. Title: The Christian Recorder Vol. 2, Issue 3 (1820-May) Date of first publication: 1820 Author: Various Date first posted: February 24 2013 Date last updated: February 24 2013 Faded Page eBook #20130228 This eBook was produced by: L. Harrison, Marcia Brooks & the online Distributed Proofreaders Canada team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net THE CHRISTIAN RECORDER. VOL. II. MAY, 1820. NO. 3. SCOTCH EPISCOPAL CHURCH. _To the Editor of the Christian Recorder._ SIR, The Episcopal Church in Scotland, is in every particular of doctrine, discipline, and worship, similar to the Establishment in England, with the single difference, that it is tolerated, and not the Religion of the State; and this difference gives it a nearer resemblance to the primitive Church of Christ than any other now in existence. From its political attachments, it was for a long time considered an object of suspicion and jealousy by the Government; hence it was forced to endure many severities, which required all its firmness and perseverance to support with magnanimity and forbearance. The Scottish Bishops refused to acknowledge King William, at the revolution in 1688, and therefore, lost that Prince's favour, who was at first more disposed to support them than the Presbyterians. "The King bids me tell you," said the Bishop of London to the Bishop of Edinburgh, "that he now knows the state of Scotland much better than he did when he was in Holland; for while there, he was made to believe, that Scotland, generally all over, was Presbyterian; but now he sees that the great body of the nobility and gentry are for Episcopacy; wherefore, he bids me tell you, that if you will undertake to serve him, as he is served here in England, he will take you by the hand, support the Church and order, and throw off the Presbyterians." Dr. Rose, the venerable Bishop of Edinburgh, answered, "I cannot but thank the Prince, my Lord, for his frankness and offer; but with all I must tell your Lordship, that when I came from Scotland, neither my brethren nor I apprehended any such revolution as I have seen now in England; and therefore, I neither was nor could be instructed by them what answer to make to the Prince's offer; and therefore, what I say is not in their name, but only my private opinion, which is this, that I truly think they will not serve the Prince as he is here served in England; that is, as I take it, to make him their King, nor give their suffrage for his being King; and though as to this matter, I can say nothing in their name, and as from them, yet I, for myself, must say, that rather than do so, I will abandon all the interest that either I have, or may expect to have in Britain."--_Skinner's Annals._ The Church, of which this conscientious Prelate was a member, agreed in his sentiments, and however much mistaken we may suppose them to have been, we have here presented a noble sacrifice of interest to principle. The Scotch Episcopalians were tried, as it were, by fire, and were not found wanting. When offered a continuation of affluence, worldly honors, and a legal establishment, for what many persons of that age considered a seasonable variation of opinion, and poverty, persecution, and legal oppression, if they adhered to their principles, they did not hesitate even for a moment, but preferred conscience to prosperity. Through every trial and severity, they maintained their principles, and exhibited amidst contempt, persecution, poverty, and neglect, something, says an amiable Preacher, of the faith and fortitude of the primitive martyrs. It is a matter of surprise to those who are acquainted with the purity and simplicity of the Episcopal Church of Scotland, and to the many intrepid examples of patience, of perseverance and piety, which she has exhibited, that more notice is not taken of her in the religious publications of the day, and that while the obscurest sects are held up to public attention, and very ordinary characters dragged from their privacy, are decked with the trappings of a partial biography, and held up to admiration, the primitive models of Christian simplicity, self-denial, and devotion, afforded by this branch of the Catholic Church, are passed over without notice or regard. With your permission, Mr. Editor, I shall rescue some of these eminent men from the great obscurity in which they at present lie; but in the mean time, I am desirous of calling the attention of your readers to the present situation of the Church which they adorned. And here I must premise, that it is of great importance to the cause of Episcopacy, to behold a society of well-informed Christians, adhering to its principles under circumstances peculiarly disadvantageous from a deep conviction of their truth. Such a spectacle puts to confusion the assertions of those who have said that this mode of Christian worship could not exist separate from pomp and power, and manifestly proves that without external dignity, splendor, or even protection, it preserves, beyond all others, its primitive purity, and continues from age to age without any variation to keep its adherents fixed in the truth, as it was once delivered to the saints. In such a state of things, the clergy can have no secular views in entering into its ministry; for, their salaries are by no means adequate to their comfortable subsistence; it can therefore only be a desire to be useful, proceeding from the most disinterested motives, that could induce men of learning and talents to devote themselves in such a Church to the service of the Sanctuary. Let those who pretend that the sister Church established in England, so interesting to its friends, and so important to the constitution, derives her chief support from her connexion with the State--her legal support, her dignity, and splendour, look to Scotland, where the same Church, deprived of all these advantages, maintains in every thing the same principles, and is held together by the force of opinion, and preserved, though in a state of humiliation, by a strong and uniform consent in the doctrine and discipline of the primitive Church. In the Episcopal Church of Scotland, we behold that of England divested of every thing foreign and adventitious, as a society entirely spiritual, and yet maintaining the same constitution, the same worship, faith, and discipline, not by the sanction of laws, statutes, and acts of parliament, but by motives of conscience, and by sanctions which are considered as divine. The present state of the Scotch Episcopal Church is considered prosperous; "the political calamities, in which she was involved, have happily passed away, and the Government of our country has wisely and generously felt that the opposition which principles alone occasioned, would be converted into as strenuous a support when principle also demanded it. In the same auspicious moment, the Church of England stretched out the right hand of fellowship upon the first notice of the wishes of her holy though humble sister, and with the true feeling of Apostolical times, acknowledged the equality of her spiritual claims, although unsupported by the outward dignity of temporal distinction. The sons of that great and wise establishment now join in communion and in every reciprocal interchange of love and duty with their Episcopal brethren in Scotland. Something of support as well as of honor, has thus been conferred on the Northern Church, while she in return holds examples nurtured in her bosom of a well tempered zeal, of modest worth, and of professional learning, which well deserve to be studied and copied by the noblest and most prosperous establishment."--_Morehead's Sermon._ A late distinguished traveller through Scotland remarks, that "it was a pity that the Scottish Episcopalians were almost universally Jacobites; for their adoption of that most hated of all heresies, made it a comparatively easy matter for their doctrinal enemies to scatter them entirely from the field before them. Nevertheless, in spite of all the disfavour and disgrace, with which for a length of years they had to contend, the spirit of the Episcopalian Church did not evaporate or expire, and she has of late lifted up her head again in a style of splendour that seems to awaken considerable feelings of jealousy and wrath in the bosoms of the more bigotted Presbyterians, who contemplate it. The more liberal adherents of the Scottish Kirk, however, seem to entertain no such feelings, or rather they take a pleasure in doing full justice to the noble steadfastness which has been displayed through so long a period of neglect, and more than neglect, by their fellow Christians of this persuasion. To the clergy of the Episcopal Church in particular, they have no difficulty in conceding a full measure of that praise, which firm adherence to principle has, at all times, the power of commanding; and the adherence of these men has indeed been of the highest and most meritorious kind. With a self-denial and humility worthy of the primitive ages of the Church, they have submitted to all manner of penury and privation, rather than depart from their inherited faith, or leave the people of their sect without the support of that spiritual instruction, for which it was out of their power to offer any thing more than a very trivial and inadequate remuneration. Nay, in the midst of all their difficulties and distresses, they have endeavoured with persevering zeal to sustain the character of their own body, in regard to learning, and they have succeeded in doing so, in a way that reflects the highest honor, not only on their zeal, but their talents. Not a few names of very considerable celebrity in the past literature of Scotland, are to be found among the scattered and impoverished members of this Apostolical Church; and even in our own time, the talents of many men have been devoted to its service, who might easily have commanded what less heroic spirits would have thought a far more precious kind of reward, had they chosen to seek in other pursuits and professions, what they well knew this could never afford them. In Edinburgh, two very handsome chapels have of late years been erected by the Episcopalians, and the clergymen who officiate in them, possess faculties eminently calculated for extending the reputation of their Church. Dr. Sandford, the Bishop of the diocese, preaches regularly in the one, and the minister of the other is no less a person than Mr. Alison, the celebrated author of the Essays on Taste, and of those exquisite Sermons which I have so often heard you speak of in terms of rapture, and which indeed no man can read, who has either taste or feeling, without admiration almost as great as yours. "The Bishop is a thin pale man, with an air and aspect full of a certain devout and melancholy sort of abstraction, and a voice which is very tremulous, yet deep in its tones, and managed so as to produce a very striking and impressive effect. In hearing him, after having listened for several Sundays to the more energetic Presbyterians, one feels as if the atmosphere had been changed round, and the breath of a milder, gentler inspiration had suffused itself over every sound that vibrates through the stillness of a more placid æther. Nothing can be more touching than the paternal affection with which this good man regards his flock; it every now and then gives a gushing richness of power to his naturally feeble voice, and a no less beautiful richness to his usually chaste and modest style of language. He has the character here, as well as at Oxford where he was educated, of being at once a fine scholar and a deep divine. He preaches, however, in a very simple, unaffected, and pleasing manner, without any kind of display beyond what the subject seems to render absolutely necessary. "Mr. Alison has a much larger chapel, and more numerous congregation, and he possesses, no doubt, much more largely the qualifications of a popular orator. He has also about him a certain pensiveness of aspect, which I should almost suspect to have been inherited from the afflicted priests of this Church of the preceding generation. He has a noble serenity of countenance, which is not disturbed but improved by its tinge of melancholy large blue eyes, beaming with gentle lambent fire, and set dark and hollow in the head--lips full of delicacy and composure--and a tall pale forehead, sprinkled loosely with a few thin grey monastic ringlets. His voice harmonises perfectly with his exterior, clear, calm, and mellow. "In spite of his accent, which has a good deal of his country in it, I never heard any man read the service of our Church in so fine and impressive a style as Mr. Alison. The grave antique majesty of those inimitable prayers, acquiring new beauty and sublimity as they passed through his lips, could not fail to refresh and elevate my mind. In his preaching, the effect of his voice is no less striking; and, indeed, much as you have read and admired his Sermons, I am sure you would confess, after once hearing him, that they cannot produce their full effect without the accompaniment of that delightful music. Hereafter, in reading them I shall always have the memory of that music ringing faintly in my ears, and recall with every grand and every gentle close, the image of that serene and solemn countenance, which nature designed to be the best commentary on the meetings of Alison."--_Peters' Letters._ There are many other distinguished clergymen belonging to this Church, among whom Bishop Gleig, the Editor of the Encyclopædia Britannica, and Mr. Morehead, the colleague of Mr. Alison, deserve particular notice; but my letter has already run into a greater length than I intended, I therefore conclude with mentioning, that the clergy of the Scottish Episcopal Church are in number about sixty, under the direction of six Bishops. I am, Sir, N. N. CONTENDING FOR THE FAITH. _To the Editor of the Christian Recorder._ SIR, I read your paper on the increase of the Christian Spirit with attention, and was sorry to find that your proofs were not more satisfactory; for though I think with you, that on the whole it increases, yet much of the old leaven remains. In reasoning upon this subject, we are too apt to mistake indifference in religious opinions, for marks of true liberality, and think many persons blessed with Christian charity, who are rather lukewarm Laodiceans than the zealous professors of the Gospel. To contend earnestly for the Faith, is seldom thought to be a necessary duty. The popular cry is in favour of that spurious liberality which seeks to soften down and melt away religious distinctions, however important, and to associate all denominations under some specious rule which implies not even a conviction in the peculiar doctrines of the Christian Faith. Now, Sir, at the same time that I am opposed to all hatred and animosity between the different denominations of professing Christians, I am still more hostile to that anxious trimming of opinions which prevails so much in the present age, and which engenders indifference, and leads to infidelity. I do not consider the great activity displayed by many, in levelling all opinions and sentiments which are professed by different Christian Societies, as a mark of the increase of the Christian spirit; but the very reverse; for, such a desertion of principles and time-serving complaisance is inconsistent with the practice of the Christian virtues, and the integrity of the Christian character.--The principle from which we can never with safety depart, and which agrees with the purest Christian spirit, is this, that whatever system of Faith we believe to be true, that system we are bound to maintain, even to death. While this principle directs our conduct, varieties of Faith will not be matters of indifference, nor will we consider it a crime to be zealously attached to what we are convinced is the truth. In matters which regard their interest or in defending the reputation of those they love, we find most men sufficiently zealous; but in religion, we are taught to be cool, to speak against no system, and to be satisfied with those who retain the name of Christianity, without noticing the tenets by which it is supported. Is this honest? Are we to consider the Socinian, the Quaker, and Anabaptist equally entitled to regard as Christians, and equally pure with ourselves, in the fundamental doctrines of the Gospel? Are we who belong to the Church of England, prepared to say, that our difference from those who deny the Divinity of our Saviour, the cornerstone of our religion, is of no particular importance; that to contemn the Sacraments is a matter of indifference, and to refuse admission to little Children into the flock of Christ, is of no moment? But, say the liberalists, are you called upon to dispute with every sectary you meet--he may be sincere, meek, and inoffensive; why then disturb him? To this it may be answered, that the first wish of every sincere Christian is to know the truth, and the second to communicate the same to his family and friends; and they are little acquainted with the Christian spirit who do not know that this can be done without bitterness or animosity. It is commonly but falsely supposed, that religious conversations are uniformly productive of rancour and ill-will; but how can this be the case, unless when opponents meet who seek for victory and not for truth? With men of candid and humble minds nothing of this can happen; for in contending for the Faith, if they proceed with correctness, it is in the spirit of gentleness and peace; and even should the weakness of human nature so far prevail as to produce something of superabundant warmth in their discussions, yet even this is far better than unhallowed indifference. Many professing Christians are alarmed at the word zeal; it associates in their minds the ideas of harshness and cruelty; but were they to reflect, they would discover, that no man ever became eminent, who was destitute of this quality. What exalted character ever lived, into whose composition zeal did not largely enter? Look at those who have excelled in the arts and sciences--in the cabinet, or in the field, and you will find them anxious to know their profession and zealous in exercising it. It has, indeed, been said, that religious zeal is narrow and interested; but this is a false zeal, and not according to knowledge: the zeal which contends for the Faith, is discreet and well informed and seeks only legitimate means to infuse light into the minds of others. It is therefore not merely of great importance, but the indispensable duty of all sincere believers, to show themselves decidedly in favour of correct principles and sound morals, a step which becomes daily the more necessary, as the number of those who profess themselves liberal and enlightened, while they are indifferent to the peculiar doctrines of the Gospel seem rapidly to increase. Now, Sir, I think all the friends of the Church of England, or indeed of pure Christianity, are bound to contend earnestly for the following articles of Faith: "That there is only one God, and yet in the one Godhead there are three persons of the same essence, equal in power and glory; that our first parents were created in perfect resemblance to his moral image in knowledge, righteousness, and holiness; that in consequence of their fatal apostacy by the violation of the covenant of works, all their posterity are by nature in a state of guilt and condemnation, and morally incapable of doing any thing that is spiritually good; that our redemption from this deplorable condition, is the effect of the sovereign grace of God, through the mediation and righteousness and atoning death of the Lord Jesus Christ; that this only Redeemer is the eternal Son of God, his equal in every perfection, being the brightness of his glory and the express image of his person; that the gracious design of his incarnation and obedience unto death, was to fulfil all righteousness and to make atonement to divine justice for the sins of those whom he came to redeem; that the Gospel is the publication and offer of salvation to the chief of sinners; that regeneration or a change of mind, and care with respect to spiritual objects, so as to be restored to a capacity of serving God and enjoying his peculiar favour, is the effect of the agency of the Holy Ghost, by the instrumentality of the appointed means of Grace; that the moral law being of perpetual obligation, has an indispensable claim to universal obedience, which as the genuine test of submission to divine authority, the redeemed of the Lord are ever desirous to yield, and by which their personal interest in his salvation is ascertained to themselves and to their Christian brethren; that a peaceable demeanour, according to established laws in those countries where it may be their lot to reside, and zealous endeavours in the use of lawful means to promote the welfare of the community to which they belong, is an essential part of that morality to which they are called by the Gospel, and which, when it is displayed in the life of a Christian, is a powerful recommendation of our most holy religion; that he who died on the cross at Calvary, as a propitiatory sacrifice for our sins, rose again from the dead according to the Scriptures, ascended in visible triumph to the heavenly world, is now exalted above every name, controuling and directing all events for his own glory, and the advantage of his people; and that when all the purposes of his gracious Providence concerning his Church militant are accomplished, he will appear in great glory on his throne, as judge of all the earth, to complete the salvation of his friends and the ruin of his enemies."--_Robertson's Sermons._ Such is my view of the Faith, Mr. Editor, recommended by revelation. It may be wrong, for I do not consider myself infallible; but I believe it to be correct, and so believing, I must contend for its truth against all gainsayers, and give it a decided preference without wishing to interfere with those who think differently. I cannot unite with them in the support of their opinions, nor can they, if sincere, unite with me in support of opinions at variance with their own. C. A SERMON _Preached at the Anniversary of the Royal Humane Society in Christ's Church, Surrey, on Sunday the 28th of March, 1819, by the Right Rev. Jacob Mountain, D. D. Lord Bishop of Quebec._ We are told in the advertisement announcing the publication of this excellent Sermon, that it is offered for sale in the hope of introducing the objects of the Humane Society to the notice and approbation of the inhabitants of the Lower Province, in order to the formation of a branch of the Society in Quebec, where the want of some such provision is severely felt, it being calculated that from 80 to 90 persons annually are drowned at the port of that city. A set of the apparatus has been brought to the country by the Author of the Sermon, with full directions for their use. The profits of the sale (if any) will be applied to the purposes of the Society. About the middle of the last century, some benevolent gentlemen in Holland perceived with deep regret, that owing to the great number of canals and inland seas, many industrious persons, of the labouring class especially, were annually drowned. This was the more to be lamented, as from the circumstances that came to their knowledge, they had reason to believe that some at least might have been saved, had they not been abandoned as dead, or very superficially treated. By further inquiry, and the collection from various publications of every hint which they could discover respecting the method of treating persons in such critical circumstances, they were encouraged to form themselves into a Society for the express purpose of recovering persons apparently drowned. Their first step was to arrange all the information which they had collected, and to print it for the use of the public, at the same time offering rewards to those who should put their rules in execution for restoring suspended animation. The success of these humane attempts far exceeded the most sanguine expectations of the Society; numbers were restored who must have otherwise perished, and the general attention of all Europe was excited to this interesting institution. Similar Societies were established in Italy, in Hamburgh, in France, and Germany, and that of Amsterdam formed branches through all the seven Provinces. In every place numbers were restored, and the truth of the facts related by the primary institution fully confirmed. In England, the benevolent objects of the Dutch Society soon attracted notice; their publication was translated by Dr. Cogan, and generally read, and in 1774, this gentleman united with Mr. Hawes in promoting a plan for the introduction of a similar institution. The plan was so well received, and met with so much encouragement from gentlemen of influence, that they were soon enabled to form themselves into a Society, which has been actively employed ever since, and has preserved to the community upwards of four thousand lives. As water communication is frequent in both these Provinces, and in many places the only mode of conveyance, accidents are continually happening, and from not knowing how to treat the bodies when recovered from the water, many valuable lives are lost. A greater service cannot therefore be done to the Canadian public, than that of giving some general account of the mode of treatment used by the Humane Society to restore suspended animation; nor will it be less appropriate as an introduction to the eloquent passage from the Lord Bishop's Sermon, with which we shall gratify our readers. METHODS OF TREATMENT. 1st--In removing the body to a convenient place, great care must be taken that it be not bruised, nor shaken violently, nor roughly handled, nor carried over any one's shoulders, nor rolled upon the ground, nor over a barrel, nor lifted up by the heels; for experience proves that all these methods are injurious. Let two or more persons carry the body, or let it be conveyed in a carriage upon straw, lying on a bed, with the head a little raised, and kept in as natural and easy a position as possible. 2d--The body being well dried with a cloth, should be placed in a moderate degree of heat, but not too near a large fire. The room should be well aired, and no more persons admitted than are absolutely necessary. The warmth most promising of success, is that of a bed or blanket properly warmed; bottles of hot water should be laid at the bottoms of the feet, in the joints of the knees, and under the arm pits; and a warming pan, moderately heated, or hot bricks wrapped in cloths should be rubbed over the body, and particularly along the back. The natural and kindly warmth of a healthy person lying by the side of the body has been found in many cases very efficacious. 3d--The body being placed in one or other of these advantageous circumstances, as speedily as possible, various stimulants should next be employed. Blow with force into the lungs, by the mouth into that of the Patient, closing his nostrils with one hand and gently expelling the air by pressing the chest with the other, imitating the strong breathing of a healthy person. In the mean time, a third person should rub the belly, chest, arms, and back, with a coarse cloth or flannel dipped in brandy, gin, rum, or dry salt, so as not to rub off the skin; spirits of hartshorn, volatile salts, or any other stimulating substance, must also be applied to the nostrils, and rubbed upon the temples very frequently; the body should at intervals be shaken also and varied in its position. 4th--If there be any signs of returning life, such as sighing, gasping, twitching, or any convulsive motions, beating of the heart, the return of the natural colour and warmth, opening a vein in the arm or neck may prove beneficial, but the quantity of blood taken should not be great. The throat should be tickled with a feather, in order to excite a propensity to vomit, and the nostrils also with a feather, or snuff, so as to provoke sneezing; a tea spoonful of warm water may be administered now and then, in order to learn whether the power of swallow be returned; and if it be, a table spoonful of warm wine or brandy and water may be given with advantage, but not before, as the liquor might get into the lungs before the power of swallowing returns. These methods should be continued with vigour for two or three hours, although there should not be the least symptoms of returning life. The vulgar notion, that a person will recover in a few minutes, or not at all, and the ignorant foolish custom of ridiculing those who are willing to persevere, as if they were attempting impossibilities, has most certainly caused the death of many, who might otherwise have been saved. Although all these operations may be commenced immediately by persons not acquainted with medicine, and successfully continued, yet it is wiser, when it can possibly be done, to call in the assistance of a skilful physician. The object of the Society, which the Lord Bishop recommends is therefore highly meritorious, and can only be accomplished by the vigorous exertion of Christian benevolence; a benevolence very different from that which we find so common in the world; for instead of springing like the latter from vanity or a morbid sensibility; it displays itself in the severest efforts of vigilance and industry, and flows from the love of God. The Lord Bishop founds his discourse on the 21st verse of 2d chap. of 1 Peter--_leaving us an example that we should follow his steps_, and after applying the words to some topics of general concern, he makes them bear upon the particular subject which he was to recommend as follows: "Now, although it is impossible that you can '_follow the steps_' of Jesus Christ, in those _miraculous_ acts of beneficence, in which his life abounded, you may yet humbly endeavour to imitate his virtues: you may follow him, in piety, in charity, in meekness, in purity, in patience, and in fortitude; you may even adopt the _principle_, and cherish the _disposition_, that gave birth to many of his miracles themselves:--you may strive to transplant into your lives, that perfect benevolence that distinguished his. "You cannot teach others, it is true, with that Divine Wisdom, which belonged to Him, who 'spake, as never man spake;' nor can you second your teaching, by the influence of the Holy Spirit:--but you may, notwithstanding, exert yourselves to 'bring up the poor, and ignorant, in the nurture and admonition of the Lord;' to open to them the way of Salvation; and point out the path of life. "You cannot, with one powerful word, create food for thousands;--but, by judicious liberality, you may, not unfrequently perform the good work, of giving bread to the hungry. "You cannot, in an instant, remove sickness from the fevered frame,--or confer vigour on the palsied limbs;--but, by humane attention, and by kindly succours, you may become instrumental to the restoration of health; or alleviate, at least, the sufferings of disease. "You cannot, with a touch, enable the deaf to hear,--the dumb to speak,--the blind to see;--but you may afford aid, in the furtherance of the admirable methods that have been devised, in some degree to obviate such privations; and to render those who suffer them contented, and comfortable, in the consciousness of acquiring a capacity to reciprocate intelligence, and to become useful, as members of society. "You cannot raise the dead.--Yet here,--even here,--under a deep sense of your nothingness, and reverently avoiding every idea of comparison,--even here, you may still aspire, in principle, and in your humble measure, to 'follow the steps' of your Divine Master. "It was undoubtedly a great and leading purpose of the Miracles of Christ, to afford proof of his Divine Mission, and Character: yet that did not hinder Him from being influenced, in these acts of mercy, by the kindest feelings of his human nature, nor from indulging the unequalled tenderness of his heart; nor did it exclude the purpose of impressing upon the hearts of others, a compassionate regard to the wretched, and a fervent desire of doing good. "In considering the Miracles of Christ, you will not suppose it to be any derogation of his perfect benevolence, that when he knew his friend Lazarus was sick, he suffered him to die. "It appears clearly, that in permitting this, he looked to the effect, which he intended to produce, by the astonishing miracle of recalling him to life. "The great objects of his Mission were always present to his mind,--always the first to be attended to;--but though they governed, they never extinguished, the kindness of his affections. When he visited the dwelling place of the family of Lazarus, and beheld the affliction of Martha and Mary, when he recalled, as we may conclude that he did at that moment, the agony of death, which his friend had undergone, he was oppressed by irresistible sympathy;--he groaned in spirit, deeply and repeatedly; he was affected even to tears; and this, though he was about immediately to remove the affliction of the sisters, by restoring their brother to life. "Can there be any doubt then, that the tenderest feelings of humanity had their full share in this illustrious act of mercy? Can there be any doubt, that while he thus exercised his _Divine_ power, for the purposes of his high mission, he indulged also all the pitying sensibilities of the _human_ heart within? "When he raised the daughter of Jairus, there was a like kind attention to the sorrows of her relations and friends. "But let us take another instance. "'And it came to pass the day after, that He went into a city called Nain; and many of his disciples went with him, and much people. Now when he came nigh to the gate of the city, behold there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow; and much people of the city was with her. And when the Lord saw her he had compassion on her, and said unto her, weep not. And he came and touched the bier; and they that bare him stood still. And he said, young man, I say unto thee arise. And he that was dead, sat up, and began to speak. And he delivered him to his mother.'--How beautifully simple! how inexpressibly affecting is this narrative! "How adorably, and, if the expression may be permitted, how sweetly benevolent was the conduct of Christ! He could not support the sight of so much misery, such utter destitution, as this poor woman suffered:--'weep not,' said he to the bereaved mother;--and instantly he converted her grief into an extacy of joy, by restoring her son. "It appears to me, that this little narrative has many points which are far from being inapplicable to the subject, which I am to endeavour to recommend to your favourable attention. "Though you cannot work miracles, in behalf of your brethren, the sources of benignity, like that which was manifested by Jesus Christ, in the case of the son of the afflicted widow of Nain, may be largely opened in your hearts; and that soft and gracious pity, which moved him so speedily to minister to her comfort, may assuredly be felt, and exercised by you. "It has pleased God to render us dependant, not only for comfort and well-being, but in many cases for _our very existence_, upon the benevolent exertions of each other. "You cannot resuscitate the _actually dead_:--you cannot, strictly speaking, _restore life_;--but you may sometimes _save_ it. Life is not always extinct, you know, when it appears to be so. You are aware that what is only _suspended_, may yet be recalled; and that in many cases, _Death_ itself, which without your assistance, would be absolutely inevitable, may, by that assistance, be effectually averted. What a momentous consideration is this! "Cases may fall within the influence of this Society, bearing a striking resemblance to the calamity which befel the Widow of Nain. "Conceive the only son of a widow, to have perished in the River.--Conceive the widow to be poor and destitute, and with this only son, to have young and helpless daughters, who like herself, have been dependent upon his labour for support.--You would feel for such a loss as this--you would painfully commiserate the situation of such sufferers. "Every humane spectator of the scene--every casual passer by, possessed of ordinary sensibility--every friendly neighbour must be affected with the most distressing sensations of sympathy, and sorrow. What then must be the state of mind of the sisters?--of the mother?-- "Though wretchedness and want must directly stare them in the face, they would have no perception, no sense, no feeling, but for him whom they had lost;--they would only gaze in agony on the pale, cold, dead figure, so _lately_ glowing with life, abounding in vigour, and exulting in activity. "Where are the Medical Assistants of the Royal Humane Society?--Their intervention may yet change the colour of this fearful scene.--They are sought, and are found. They instantly take upon them the charge of the apparently lifeless body.--They exclude all, but such as may aid their endeavours.--They apply themselves with equal skill and diligence to their labour of love. "An hour is spent in ceaseless exertion; yet there is no appearance of life;--a second passes;--perhaps a third;--but discouragement is not suffered to relax their efforts:--they rather redouble them;--they have recourse to every expedient that ingenuity can suggest, or that practice has found useful, to revive the latent spark of life. "Theirs is not that hurried zeal, that agitated and bewildered activity, which, though springing from the kindest feelings, would yet, by precipitancy and misjudging eagerness, defeat the object they are so anxious to attain: theirs, is that firm composure, that calm attention to every symptom that arises, that deliberate and enlightened exercised of judgment, that unshaken spirit of perseverance;--the precious fruit of science combined with experience--which prospers, where all else would fail, and finally leads to the happiest results. "What may not be expected from _Knowledge_, animated and inspired by _Charity_?--The sufferer moves, and breathes, and lives:--his mind recovers its intelligence, and his heart its sensibilities:--he is restored to his friends, and to society. "Who would not envy the distinguished operators such a moment as this? Who would not ardently desire to become _Associated_ with those whose benevolence _supplied the means_ of producing such admirable effects? Who is there to be found, who could possibly be indifferent to the satisfaction of restoring a fellow-creature to life? "Many and various are the cases contained in the Reports of this Society, that could hardly fail to impress upon the mind, in the most lively and convincing manner, the important benefits which its institution has conferred;--and you have before you, at this moment, a large number of persons, who, in the course of the last year, have experienced its efficacy, in their preservation from untimely death. "Look, then, to children given back to the arms of parents, whom their loss would soon 'have brought down with sorrow to the grave:'--Look to parents, preserved to those families, which would otherwise have been left to all the miseries of ignorance and want:--Look to the restoration of the Husband--or of the Wife--to that faithful bosom, which had been robbed, as it seemed, by the sudden hand of death, of all domestic comfort, and reduced to the extremity of anguish and despair. "Highly gratifying, in a merely temporal view, as occurrences like these must be, the more obvious and immediate good that flows from them, is not the only, nor I think the main advantage, that they are capable of producing. "Consider, I beseech you, the probable effect of the restoration of life, where all the terrors of death have been actually passed through.--Consider the effect that is likely to be produced upon the minds of those who witness such a scene. "Such awful, and soul-stirring circumstances, sink deeply into the bosoms, not only of the party upon whom they directly operate--not only of the family and friends of the resuscitated sufferer--but of a whole neighbourhood--of all who have seen, or who have heard of the apparently fatal accident, and the success of the means employed for recovery. They are roused, and interested, and affected, in the most forcible manner, by all that has passed; and their minds are thus fitted to receive serious impressions, and prepared for salutary reflection. The principles of humanity, the exertions of beneficence, the offices of brotherly kindness, are irresistibly recommended, and infinitely endeared by the practical evidence of their happy effects;--the awakened mind is stimulated to emulation;--a warm desire of promoting the welfare of others is excited; and sentiments of good will towards men, and of thankful piety to God find an open passage to the heart. "You will observe, then, and the observation, I am persuaded, cannot fail effectually to interest you in favour of the views of this Society--that in saving life, you may often save the soul. "We are familiar with the idea of death. Every man knows that he must die;--but while death is seen only at a distance, and the final hour remains utterly uncertain, he generally considers the subject with careless indifference, or rather he scarcely considers it at all;--but it is a different thing with him, if death be suddenly brought near.--He then shrinks from it with fearful apprehension; and clings, with fond attachment, and with convulsive eagerness to life. "The Reports of the Society give melancholy evidence of the frequency of attempts at self-destruction;--and it cannot be denied, that in _these_, at least, the fear of instant death must, either by insanity, or by some violent and terrible excitation of the feelings, have been previously disregarded or surmounted;--but even in these cases, experience has often shewn, that when the person meditating suicide has been brought into actual contact, as it were, with death, this daring hardihood has altogether failed; and an agonizing desire of preserving life has shewn itself, at the moment of its apparent extinction. "If the wretched sufferer is preserved from immediate destruction, the shock of terror has been found to be most salutary; a feeling sense of the danger that has been escaped--a shuddering recollection of the pang that has been suffered--a deep consciousness of the incalculable benefit of being saved from rushing into the presence of the Divine Being, in a paroxysm of guilt and desperation--remain upon the soul;--the rash and horrible sensations that preceded the attempt, are weakened and subside;--a different view presents itself of this world and of the next;--the sullen pride and stubborn self-will of the heart, are effectually subdued; true penitence succeeds;--and penitence produces gratitude to God and men; reformation, hope, and peace. "Again I observe, therefore, that in saving life, you may save the immortal soul. And what motive can be urged upon you for supporting this Society, equally impressive, equally momentous with this? "If to preserve a fellow-creature from a premature grave and restore him to a capacity of enjoying the comforts of this mortal life, be a reasonable subject of rejoicing, what must be that satisfaction which is derived from having been instrumental in giving, as it were, _new life_ to the _soul_;--in opening the mind to the light of divine truth, and leading it to lay hold on the hope of immortality? "I have, perhaps, already detained you too long; yet I must beg your attention a few moments longer; since it is proper, that I should briefly lay before you the general objects of the Charity, for which I am to ask your support. "The Royal Humane Society, has for its objects, the collecting and circulating of the most effectual methods of recovering persons apparently dead, by drowning, suspension, or suffocation; the providing of proper Apparatus for these purposes; and the bestowing of appropriate rewards on all who shall assist in the Preservation or Restoration of life. The number of persons who have been preserved by this Society, since its institution, in the year 1774, has been 4279. In the last year, 258 individuals have been recalled from apparent death or rescued from imminent danger.--Thirty-two cases of persons attempting suicide have fallen under the notice of the Committee, of whom 29 were saved. "A _Christian_ Congregation cannot, I think, contemplate this brief statement without the strongest feelings of interest and approbation; without an anxiously impatient desire to contribute to support--and, as far as it may be practicable, to enlarge those means of doing good, which have been hitherto so skilfully and so successfully applied. "Of the disposition of those who have already befriended the Society, it would in the highest degree be ungracious and unjust to doubt. Casual acts of bounty, proceeding upon no fixed principle, and preserving no consistency of purpose, could neither afford just ground of satisfaction in the immediate act, nor lay up comfort for future recollection. Such will not be the character of your benevolence. You will not suffer the complexion of your charity to fade, with the first gloss of novelty; nor let the warmth of your good will abate, as the objects are familiarized, that brought it into action. "And you, to whom the consideration of this subject may in some degree be new, you will not, I trust, be behind your brethren, in your zeal for the support of an Institution so calculated to gratify the best affections of the heart. The _statement_, which you have just heard--the _view_ of so many of your fellow-creatures, recently saved from the very grasp of death, will bring home to your minds the fullest conviction that the objects of the Royal Humane Society have as powerful a claim to your generous assistance as any that can be mentioned or conceived. "In acting upon this conviction, you will not only 'lay up for yourselves a good foundation against the time to come,' but will reap, in the fruit of your exertion, an immediate and ample harvest of reward. "God has mercifully connected our best enjoyments with our highest duties; and whatever other pleasures men may seek, they will find none comparable to the pleasures of beneficence. "Suffer me then to recommend it to you--suffer me earnestly to intreat you, to render this meeting an occasion of proving the sincerity of your admiration of the '_Example_' of our Saviour, and the fervency of your desire to '_follow his steps_;'--to make this day, one of those days, which shall be brightened as it passes, by the pure delight of doing good, and remembered to the close of life, with secret, but with solid satisfaction." CONFIRMATION. TO THE EDITOR OF THE CHRISTIAN RECORDER. SIR, As we have reason to suppose that the Lord Bishop of Quebec is about to visit this Province, permit me to direct the attention of that portion of your readers who belong to the Established Church to the holy Apostolic rite of Confirmation. "Were it even an institution of human origin, we should admire it for its tendency to impress on persons advancing to maturity, a sense of obligations resting on them, independently of their consent in this ordinance voluntarily given." But when they are reminded that it was ordained and practised by the Apostles of our Lord Jesus Christ, and was one of the most efficacious means in the subsequent ages of exciting that sublime virtue which adorned the primitive Christians, they will perceive its value, and become convinced that the same grace first given in baptismal regeneration is increased and strengthened by Confirmation. But as the illustrious dead often preach with more effect than the living, I request of all those preparing for Confirmation the careful perusal of the following extracts: "It was an ancient custom for the children, after they were come to years of discretion, to be presented to the Bishop in order to fulfil that duty which was required of adults who offered themselves to Baptism. For such persons were placed among the catechumens, till being duly instructed in the mysteries of Christianity, they were enabled to make a confession of their Faith before the Bishop and all the people. Therefore those who had been baptized in their infancy, because they had not then made such a confession of Faith before the Church, at the close of childhood, or commencement of adolescence, were again presented by their parents, and were examined by the Bishop according to the form of the Catechism which was then in common use. That this exercise, which deserved to be regarded as sacred and solemn, might have the greater dignity and reverence, they also practised the ceremony of imposition of hands. Thus the youth, after having given satisfaction respecting his Faith, was dismissed with a solemn benediction. This custom is frequently mentioned by the ancient writers. Such imposition of hands therefore as is connected with benediction, I highly approve, and wish it were now restored to its primitive use."--_Institutes, book 4, chap. 16._ Very few of your readers would suppose that this strong favourer of Confirmation was no less than the famous John Calvin, one of the most learned and able Men of his time, and who might have been placed by the side of Luther, had not the severities he met with in France so inflamed his ardent and impetuous disposition as to precipitate him into some dangerous errors in doctrine, which still divide and afflict the Christian Church. "Another peculiar ministry of the Bishops and Governors of the Church, is to confirm such as have been baptised and instructed in Christianity; which ministry was always performed by prayer and laying on of hands, upon which the party so confirmed received the gift of the Holy Ghost. It is true, upon the first institution of this imposition of hands, the extraordinary gifts of the Spirit, such as speaking with tongues, &c. were many times consequent; but from hence it does no more follow, that it was intended only for an extraordinary ministry that was to cease with these extraordinary gifts that accompany it, than that preaching was so, which at first was also attended with miraculous operations. The great intention of these extraordinary effects, was to attest the efficacy of the function; and doth it therefore follow, that the function must cease, because these extraordinary effects did so, after they had sufficiently attested its efficacy, and consequently were of no further use? If so, then, all the other ministries of Christianity must be expired as well as this. And what though these extraordinary gifts of the Spirit are ceased? yet since our Saviour hath promised a continual communication of his Spirit to his Church, is it not highly reasonable to believe that he still continues to communicate it by the very same ministry of prayer and imposition of hands, whereby he communicated it at first; and that he now derives to us the ordinary operation of it in the same way that he first derived the extraordinary ones? especially considering that this laying on of hands is placed by the Apostles in the same class with Baptism, and made one of the principles of the doctrines of Christ, _Heb._ vi. 1, 2, and therefore must, without all doubt, be intended for a standing ministry in the Church, and as such the Church of Christ in all ages has thought herself obliged to receive and practice it; but as for the administration of it, it was always appropriated to the Apostles and Bishops. So in _Acts_ xix. 5, 6, it was St. Paul that laid his hands on the Ephesians after they were baptised in the name of Jesus, whereupon it is said that the Holy Ghost came upon them; and in _Acts_ 8, we read that when St. Philip, by his preaching and miracles had converted the Samaritans, and afterwards baptised them, St. Peter and St. John, two of the Apostles, were sent to lay hands on them, upon which it is said that they received the Holy Ghost, (verse 17,) by which it appears, that this ministry of Confirmation appertained to the Apostles; since St. Philip, though a worker of miracles, a preacher, a prime deacon, and, if we may believe St. Cyprian, one of the seventy-two disciples, would not presume to assume it, but left it to the Apostles as their peculiar province; and accordingly, in the primitive Church it was always performed by the hands of the Bishop; for though from later ages some probable instances are produced of some Presbyters that confirmed in the Bishop's absence, or by his delegation; yet in all primitive antiquity, we have neither any one canon or example of it; from whence we may justly conclude, that this imposition of hands for Confirmation was peculiar to the Apostles in the original, and to the Bishops, their successors, in the continuation of it."--_Scott's Christian Life._ A PRAYER FOR ONE WHO IS PREPARING FOR CONFIRMATION. Most merciful God, by whose gracious Providence I was born of Christian parents, and early dedicated to thee in holy Baptism, wherein I was made a member of the Catholic Church whereof Jesus Christ is the head, adopted thy child, and entitled to the unspeakable happiness of thy glorious kingdom; I most heartily thank thee for calling me to this state of salvation, and for bestowing upon me such blessed privileges: O, dispose my mind by thy heavenly grace carefully and diligently to perform those conditions thou requirest to qualify me for such inestimable benefits, and that I may continue in the same unto my life's end. And now, O Lord, that I am preparing myself to receive a farther degree of thy grace and favour, which will advance me into the number of the faithful, by being admitted to approach thy holy table, I humbly beseech thee to enlighten my mind with the true knowledge and understanding of that solemn vow which I made at my Baptism, and which I am now about to ratify and confirm publicly in thy presence, that I may constantly renounce the Devil, by avoiding all those temptations, with which he seeks to destroy me, and by abstaining from all those sins which partake most of his diabolical nature; that I may resist all covetous desires of honors, riches, and pleasure, and all those evil customs and maxims of the world, which alienate men's minds from the love of God; that I may mortify all the inordinate appetites of my own corrupt nature; that I may believe all thy holy revelations, and keep thy blessed will and commandments all the days of my life. Give me, O Lord, unfeigned repentance for all my past errors; that the many and great sins which I have committed, may not deprive me of the assistances of thy Holy Spirit, which I am about to receive: but let my hearty sorrow, through the merits of Christ, wash away all that is past, and let power and strength, communicated to me from above, mortify and subdue them for the time to come. I am unable, O Lord, of myself to help myself, mercifully grant that thy blessed Spirit may in all things rule my heart, that by his holy inspiration, I may think those things that are good, and by his gracious guiding may perform the same through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. ON CHARITY. FOR THE CHRISTIAN RECORDER. "_Follow after Charity._" Of all the virtues which are laid down in the New Testament, as the rules of our conduct in this life, there is none so forcibly recommended to our notice as that of Charity. In fact if we consider the subject attentively, we shall find, that under this head are united all the other virtues, which are particularly mentioned in Scripture as forming parts of this inestimable quality. I propose in the course of this paper to make First--A few remarks upon Charity, in the common acceptation of the word, as implying the relieving the wants of our fellow-creatures by alms giving, &c. and Secondly--To make some observations upon Charity in a more extensive point of view--upon its tendency to increase the happiness of this life, and to ensure that of the world to come. There are but too many among those to whom Providence has given ample means of relieving the wants and distresses of the wretched, who, though they contribute largely to this benevolent purpose, yet neglect to attend to a proper and just distribution of their bounty, and are prompted more by vanity than by the meek spirit of true charity, in the dispensation of their gifts. How many do we see who for the gratification of their pride, and the empty pleasure of seeing their names enrolled with those of the noble and affluent, lavish, scarce knowing how their bounty is disposed of, sums which might, with proper care, contribute to the relief of hundreds of individuals, and not only supply their present wants, but perhaps be the means of preventing many of these wretched creatures, who are the proper objects of their charity, taking the first step in those paths which must finally lead them to the lowest depths of vice and infamy. Far be it from me to wish to check that noble spirit which characterises my countrymen; that spirit which prompts them to come forward so readily in the cause of distress, and of which we have of late years seen so many and such brilliant examples. But let us always strictly examine the motives that influence our generous actions, and "take heed that we do not our alms before men to be seen of them, otherwise," as our Saviour saith, "we have no reward of our Father that is in Heaven." With what true complacency must that man look back upon his own acts of benevolence, who is conscious that in performing them he has been actuated by no other motives than the love of God and of his neighbour, and that in relieving the wants of the distressed, he has so strictly fulfilled the precepts of his Saviour that scarcely hath "his left hand known what his right hand hath done." How far superior must be his feelings in the consciousness of having obtained the approbation of his Heavenly Father, to those of the man who, influenced in his acts of charity by vanity, must feel that at best he has but obtained the applause of men. Among those whose means of giving are circumscribed, due attention ought to be paid to the discovery of the worthiness or unworthiness of the objects of their bounty; and though to many this has furnished excuses for withholding their charity altogether, yet it by no means follows, that on account of the many abuses on this point, it should be wholly neglected; for in the dispensing of Charity, we ought to consider ourselves as the stewards of God, and as it is natural to suppose that He would not extend his bounty to the unworthy as well as the deserving, we are doing a manifest act of injustice to the latter by indiscriminately confounding them with the general mass of the distressed, and thus not proving ourselves worthy of the trust reposed in us. But in canvassing the merits of the objects of our benevolence, let us be cautious how we fulfil this part of our duty, and carefully preserve a middle path between suspicion and indiscriminate bounty, remembering that it is better that ninety and nine unworthy persons should be relieved than that one just person should be neglected; and constantly bear in mind the words of our Saviour, "with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged." I will now proceed to make some observations on Charity in the extensive point of view in which it is considered in Scripture. St. Paul, in his Epistle to the Corinthians, evidently endeavours to make us sensible of the vast importance of our possessing this virtue. "Though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not Charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not Charity, it profiteth me nothing." The Charity here recommended to us by the Apostle, is that peculiar feeling of the mind which disposes us to the fervent love of God, and also of our neighbour, for His sake; and he plainly intimates, that without this feeling, all other gifts "profit us nothing;" that whatever pains we may undergo for the sake of God, unless we have Charity, they avail us nothing. How much then doth it behove us to seek after the possession of this inestimable virtue which is to open to us the way to eternal happiness? And yet, how many daily, nay hourly opportunities of acquiring and practising its precepts do we neglect? After the love of God which is indispensably necessary, what numberless occasions we have of exhibiting our Charity towards our neighbour, of which we only make use to gratify our malice, our envy, and other evil propensities, in judging faults in others to which perhaps we are but too prone ourselves. I might say much more on this subject, but that I fear I should exceed the limits prescribed to a paper of this kind; I shall therefore conclude by earnestly beseeching such of my readers as are conscious of not possessing the gift of Charity, to lose no time in using their utmost endeavours to arrive at that state, when they shall "love God with all their heart, with all their soul, and with all their mind," and "love their neighbour as themselves." To accomplish this great end, I would recommend them First--Diligently to study the Holy Scriptures, to weigh well the precepts of our Lord, and to bear in mind that the sentence above quoted is the "first and great commandment." Secondly--When judging of the conduct of any of their brethren who may have fallen into those errors from which humanity is inseparable; to examine their own hearts, and see that they themselves are "without sin," before they "cast the first stone." Thirdly--Should their neighbour offend them, let them call to mind the solemn adjuration, which as Christians they are in the habit of making to their "Father which is in Heaven, to forgive them their trespasses as they forgive those who trespass against them." And lastly, let us all make a firm resolution to profit by those means which God and the example of his blessed Son have given us of improving in truly Christian grace, which, while it softens our hearts and causes us to cherish every forgiving and kindly sentiment towards our brethren, increases and multiplies our means of happiness in their society. By rigidly adhering to this line of conduct, we shall unquestionably secure to ourselves that first of earthly blessings, an approving conscience; and when we are called upon by our Creator to quit this mortal frame for that kingdom that he hath prepared for us, we shall be able to look back with satisfaction upon our past life, and shall find that nothing can contribute more to bring a man to "peace at last," than the consciousness of having lived "_at peace with all men_." _York, May 25th, 1820._ NOAH'S ARK. (_Concluded from page 452, Vol. I._) The dimensions of the Ark, as given by Moses, are 300 cubits in length, 50 in breadth and 30 in height; or, in English measure 547 feet long, 91 broad, and 54 high.--Considering the great number of things it was to contain, some have thought it by far too small, and been put to great difficulties and miserable shifts to find room for all the animals which lived in it for so long a time, and the provender necessary to sustain them. But an accurate examination of its dimensions will shew that the Ark was sufficiently large for every necessary purpose. It contained nearly three million of cubic feet and was capable of carrying more than eighty thousand tons. It is generally supposed that it consisted of three stories, each of which, might be about 18 feet high, and that it was partitioned into a great many rooms or apartments. The lowest story for the beasts, the middle for their food, and the upper for the birds, together with Noah and his family. The Ark contained one pair of every species of unclean animals, and seven of every species of clean animals, with a sufficient supply of provisions for a whole year. The number appears at first view almost infinite; but if we descend to a rigid calculation, we shall find that there are not above one hundred species of quadrupeds, and two hundred of birds, out of which must in this case be excepted such animals as can live in water. The learned Bishop Wilkins, who discusses this subject with great judgment and precision, shews that we ought likewise to except such animals as proceed from a mixture of different species, and such as change their colour, shape, and size, by changing their climate, and hence in different countries seem to be different species when they are not. The Bishop enters into a particular detail of the various animals, the quantity of food necessary for them, and the capacity of the Ark, and after the most severe scrutiny, supported by mathematical demonstration, he comes to the conclusion, that there was ample room and to spare. It is indeed reasonable to suppose that Noah would put into the Ark all sorts of seeds, instruments of husbandry, and the machines which belonged to the different arts which had been discovered. Some learned authors have computed that the animals contained in the Ark were not equal to 500 horses, and it is demonstrable that one floor would have been sufficient to hold more than that number comfortably. We cannot pretend to explain in what manner the unknown kinds of animals which appear natives of different parts of the world, came into the Ark, or were conveyed out of it into their distant countries, the climates of which seem necessary to their existence. It is indeed probable that the temperature of the air before the deluge was so equal and serene that all kinds of animals might live in that part of Asia, where Noah went into the Ark. After all, we must have recourse to the interposition of God's miraculous power, by which the animals were induced to come voluntarily, and afterwards to disperse. And an unbridled curiosity may ask many questions on this subject which we cannot clearly solve without referring to the immediate agency of the Divinity. ON THE WRITINGS OF THE FATHERS. (_From the Christian Remembrancer._) In the introductory chapter to his Ecclesiastical History, when speaking of the first ages of the Church, Mosheim tells us, "that among the doctors of those early times there were some who acquired, by their learned labours, a shining reputation and a universal influence; they were regarded as oracles; their decisions were handed down to posterity as sacred rules of faith and practice; and they thus deserve to be mentioned with particular distinction among the governors of the Church." Upon this passage, sufficiently clear and intelligible in itself, the Editor presents us with the following note: "By these our author means the Fathers, whose writings form still a rule of faith in the Romish Church; while, in the Protestant Churches, their authority diminishes from day to day." It was this sentence, on a question upon which my own mind had long ceased to doubt, which suggested to me the possibility of becoming the instrument of some good, by an attempt to excite, (through the medium of the Remembrancer,) a more general interest towards a subject so intimately connected with the faith and practice of us all. The brief annotation, then, just quoted seemed to me to convey, either a confused idea of the meaning of the term _authority_, with a virtual misrepresentation of the first and fundamental principle of the Reformation; or, a partial view of the opinions really prevalent among Protestants now; or, lastly, a correct statement (accompanied, as it should seem, by an implied approbation) of the existence and the extent of sentiments deeply to be lamented, and most sedulously to be counteracted by every admirer of Christian antiquity, and every sincere friend to primitive truth. If by authority the annotator meant authority as a rule of faith, that can scarcely be said to be diminishing which never existed. The very key-stone of the Protestant temple has engraven upon it, in indelible characters, "the Bible is the only rule of faith." But, probably, by authority was meant, respect only, and deference, and esteem. Whether in this sense the authority of the Fathers is diminishing from day to day among the great body of Protestants, I will not presume to pronounce: but, as a member of that pure and apostolical branch of the Catholic Church, established in our country, I cannot but hope most heartily, that the estimation in which those venerable and primitive confessors and teachers of our faith are held among us will not diminish; convinced, upon the most serious reflection, that the error of valuing them too lightly and holding them in too much neglect is the extreme, against which we of the present age need be the more watchfully upon our guard. When the Fathers of our own Church had cast off the heavy and galling yoke of Papal Rome, had their estimate of the writers of the first ages of Christianity sunk as far beneath their real standard as they had been exalted above it, it could not have been an object of wonder or surprise. Had the veneration and love for the Bible, of which Christendom, had been so long deprived, induced a distaste for every other class of writings, especially had that become nauseous which, mingled with much of baser quality, had been substituted for the pure food of the word of God, our regret, indeed, might have been excited, but not our astonishment or reprehension. Had not their clear and strong understandings and dispassionate judgments provided an antidote, that would have been the natural effect of the causes which we know to have existed. But among the various characteristics of those great and good men, which raise our gratitude to God, and secure our admiration to them, no one stands more eminently conspicuous than their prudence and moderation, their zeal tempered with knowledge. This most essential and indispensable qualification in the workers of real reform displays itself in whatever they changed, and whatever they left unaltered; in all their sentiments and all their actions; and not least is it seen in the estimate they formed of the early Fathers of the Church. Instead of rejecting them as the cause of offence, instead of spurning them as those from whom the most profligate enormities in faith and practice had derived an apparent sanction, we find them devoting the most earnest care and study to these records of primitive truth, and appealing to them as faithful interpreters of the word of God. Like that of our Church herself, "_it was their wisdom to keep the mean between two extremes_." They were aware of the tendency in the human mind, in affairs as well of religion as of politics, when convinced of the existence of a dangerous error, to rush inconsiderately and blindly into the opposite fault. They were alive to this, and effectually secured themselves against its operation. They removed tradition from that throne which she had so long usurped, but they did not trample her in the dust: they no longer paid her the homage she was wont to receive as the compeer of the word of God, but they respected her as the handmaid of that only perfect oracle of divine truth. They revered the old Fathers as examples of pious resignation, active zeal, and genuine charity: they followed them as they followed Christ. They would gladly see their own faith conformable to theirs, because they had been able to draw from the waters of truth nearer to the fountain head. They deferred to the opinions of these teachers, but bound themselves by them so far only as they were consonant to the written word of revelation. But let them speak for themselves. Their sentiments we shall find to be in perfect union with those of the venerable Jewell, whose words breathe the purest spirit of reformed Catholicism; removed as far from the blind bigotry of the Romanist, as from that libertine rejection of all authority, to which (at least in its open avowal) it remained for modern days to give birth. In his "_Treatise on the Holy Scriptures_," among others most deserving the attentive perusal of every one, he presents us with the following sentiments: "What say we of the Fathers? what shall we think of them? or what account may we make of them? They be interpreters of the word of God; they were learned men, and learned Fathers; the instruments of the mercy of God, and vessels full of grace. We despise them not, we read them, we reverence them, and give thanks unto God for them. They were witnesses unto the truth, they were worthy pillars and ornaments in the Church of God. Yet may they not be compared with the word of God. We may not build upon them; we may not make them the foundation and warrant of our conscience; we may not put our trust in them. Our trust is in the name of the Lord." And shortly after he proceeds: "Now to conclude this matter, they are learned, they have pre-eminence in the Church, they are judges, they have the gifts of wisdom and understanding; yet they are often deceived. They are our Fathers, but not fathers unto God; they are stars fair and beautiful and bright, yet are they not the sun of righteousness; his word is the word of truth; he is the day-spring which hath visited us from on high; he came down from the bosom of his Father; he shall guide our feet into the way of peace. He is the lamb without spot; out of his mouth goeth a two edged sword. This is he in whom all the ends of the world shall be blessed. Hear him, give heed to his saying, embrace his Gospel, believe his word." Such were the sentiments of the founders and builders of our own Church, formed at a time when their prejudices would have led them to an indiscriminate disparagement of all human authority, And it gives us real pleasure to place side by side with these declarations of the pious prelate, the words of a contemporary of our own[1], whose Lectures upon the study of the fathers of the three first centuries, with much valuable information, display correct reasoning, deep research, patient investigation, and pure Christian liberality, united with the soundest orthodoxy. "We pay implicit confidence," he says, "to no authority but Scripture; we owe no subjection but that which reason prescribes. It is granted that the Fathers were men fallible and infirm: they committed mistakes: neither did they write in the style of elegant Scholars. But, notwithstanding all the deductions which truth and propriety suggest, the just and legitimate influence of the fathers must rank very high. It cannot be supposed that Christians, who lived so near to the time of our Lord's incarnation and the miraculous effusion of the Holy Spirit, and who enjoyed the teaching of the Apostles, could err much in essential matters; they must have known the way of salvation. In attempting to teach the Gospel to others, their incidental mistakes are such as might be expected; for no compositions are perfect, except the volume of inspiration. It was, perhaps, providentially designed, that the best of human works should demonstrate, by a comparative inferiority, the necessity and transcendent excellence of God's revealed word. But it is not probable that any weakness or enthusiasm should obliterate the true faith in the breasts of these early proselytes. On the contrary, if the fundamental articles of vital religion are discoverable in any writings besides Holy Scripture, it is surely reasonable to conclude that they are contained in those of the primitive Fathers[2]." Such is "that middle and just judgment," which lies between the two extreme opinions, on the one side of those who would make the writings of the Fathers an inviolable standard of religious orthodoxy, and on the other of those who would consign them to oblivion and contempt. It is this latter extreme to which, if we must acquiesce in the representation of the annotator of the ecclesiastical historian, we, as Protestants, are rapidly and daily declining. But whatever injudicious and unwarrantable prejudices be entertained by members of other Churches, let us hope better things of our own. Especially let us trust, that her clergy are still uncontaminated by the raging infection of contempt of authority. They, we have good confidence, are still proof against those insidious attempts that have been made to depreciate the model of primitive times, and still habitually contemplate the Fathers of the Christian Church with veneration, though not superstitiously; and have learned (under the guidance of the restorers of sound faith and pure worship in England) to form a sober rational estimate of the value of their works upon solid grounds. "Conceiving, Mr. Editor, that our views on these subject would not in any material point be at variance with each other, and regarding the very title of your work as almost a pledge, that an article occasionally presented to your readers, professing to call to our _remembrance_ somewhat of primitive Christian feelings, and doctrines, and practice, would not in itself be abhorrent from the principles of the Remembrancer, I have persuaded myself to offer this letter for insertion; trusting, from time to time, as opportunist may be afforded or matter present itself, to propose to you some memorials of the earliest times, selecting what might be thought in itself more generally interesting, or to have been less generally known. Among the fragments of the wreck of ancient Christian literature, some of less intrinsic value have drifted to the shore, and these we may allow to remain neglected; but interspersed with these we find caskets full of the choicest treasures, enough to oblige us to mourn (with a more just estimate of our loss) for the rich lading, of which the storms, during that long and gloomy night of centuries, made shipwreck. To discover, and examine, and select, and repair these scattered remnants, required more time than the great body even of theological students could devote, and more extensive means than they could command. But thanks to the well-directed labours and kindness of learned and pious men, much, especially of late, has been effected in the facilitating our acquaintance with them. For one work especially must the student feel deeply indebted to its author,--The Reliquiæ Sacræ of Dr. Routh; a work which will remain, long after he is in peace, a monument of recondite learning, sound criticism, and Christian benevolence. It is somewhat remarkable, and tells little, perhaps, to the credit of the times, that when every paltry pamphlet, on the most trifling subject, has found its critic to analyse and applaud or condemn it at the infallible tribunal of a review, this work has not been tried by any of those great literary inquests. Whether there is a scanty supply of competent judges attached to their high commission to hold oyer and terminer on a case, for the due decision of which a knowledge of the laws and customs of so remote an antiquity is needed; or, whether they conceive the publication of their judgment on so unfashionable a subject to be not calculated to satisfy the ravening appetite for novelty, for which they are pledged to produce an adequate supply of provisions, I pretend not to divine. Of this I am sure, the cause does not arise from any defect in the merits of the work itself. On its plan and its execution I purpose addressing you in my next letter: meanwhile allow me to close my present remarks by another passage from Mr. Collinson, which I am desirous the rather of introducing, from an anxiety to recommend to those among your readers, who have not yet made themselves acquainted with it, the perusal of the book itself. All nations regard, with a devoted attachment, the memorials of their remote ancestry: the primitive Christians are our forefathers in the pedigree of opinion, a connection closer than that of consanguinity or country; and from them we inherit, in lineal descent, the best patrimony, religious truth. More especially when those ancestors are men of virtuous renown, heroes, and benefactors to mankind, we feel touched with the consciousness of the true dignity of human nature, exemplified in persons who, blessed with the aid of God's spirit, have withstood the vicissitudes and temptations of life with unshaken constancy, and have thus displayed marks of an immortal soul, superior in its essence to the perishable condition of earthly things. In this good way did the first disciples of our Lord and Master walk, animated by faith and hope in their crucified Redeemer, and these motives shed a radiance of sanctity over their memories." GAGATES. [Footnote 1: The Rev. John Collinson, Rector of Gatehead, Durham, Bampton Lecturer in 1813.] [Footnote 2: First Bampton Lecture, p. 67.] ON THE INCREASE OF POPULATION. _To the Editor of the Remembrancer._ SIR, Of the easy and general palliations which are offered in behalf of existing circumstances, I know of none which is alledged more frequently or with more confidence than the _increase of population_. If I ask what is the cause of the progress of crime, I am told that it is owing to the _increase of population_. If I hear of tumultuous meetings, and of the difficulty of repressing them, I hear again of the _increase of population_. If I inquire into the distresses of the labouring classes, into the want of employment, the reduction of wages, and of the value of labour, or into the encroachments of pauperism, and the aggravated amount of the rates levied for the use of the poor, I am referred to the common cause of evil, the _increase of population_. The price of the necessaries of life, and I suppose the inflamed thirst for what is most unnecessary and pernicious, I mean ardent spirits, are to be ascribed to the same origin: nay, I have been taught upon one occasion to believe, that cases of apoplexy are of more frequent occurrence now than formerly, because there is an _increase of population_. In short, I know of no difficulty, of which some men do not suppose, that they can find an adequate solution in the _increase of population_. Sir, I am one of those men who are not always satisfied with broad and general views of things, and who dare sometimes to think for themselves, and I have been led to examine the truth and validity of this common observation, by the returns of population made in 1811. I offer to you the result of my inquiries, in the hope of dissipating what I believe to be a very popular delusion. From the summary of the enumeration of 1801, compared with that of 1811, it appears that the total amount of population was in 1801. 1811. England 8,331,434 -- 9,538,827 Wales 541,546 -- 611,788 Scotland 1,599,068 -- 1,805,689 Army, Navy, &c. 470,598 -- 640,500 I take no notice of the addition to the naval and military forces of the country, of something more than 170,000 men in the ten years, most of whom must have been born before the year 1801, of whom also many were on foreign stations, and some were aliens born, and, therefore, cannot properly be included in the natural increase of population since that period. I will allow, that according to the enumeration, there has been an increase of population in the ten years of 1,654,157 persons; _i. e._ there has been an addition to the original population of 1801, of about one-seventh part: and this increase of population affords an excuse for the increase of crime and misery, in the same, and in no greater proportion. You will, perhaps, Sir, think me not only inquisitive and opinionated, but unreasonably sceptical, when I declare that this general statement never satisfied me. I always considered it exaggerated, and I imputed the exaggeration to the inaccuracy or deficiency of the returns made in 1801. My suspicions were not altogether unfounded. In the Abstract of the Population, printed by order of Parliament, two methods are proposed of ascertaining the increase of the population: the one is called the Enumeration Abstract, and contains the numbers actually returned by the persons appointed to collect them in each parish; the other consists of the returns from the parish registers, of baptisms, burials, and marriages. The former includes the whole of Great Britain, with the army and navy, &c.: the latter, for obvious reasons is confined to England and Wales, in which it appears that there have been between the years 1801 and 1811, baptisms 2,878,906, burials 1,950,189, marriages 832,091. "The summary of England and Wales is collected from the Registers of 11,159 Churches and Chapels, and it is believed that no more than three or four returns remain due. Many of the returns mention unentered baptisms, burials, and marriages, to the following amount, namely: annual average number of unentered baptisms, 14,860, burials 10,356, marriages 195." Now to the excess of registered baptisms above registered burials in the ten years, viz. 928,717 Add the excess of unentered baptisms above unentered burials for the same period, viz. 42,040 ------- 973,757 Deduct according to a rule given below, for deaths abroad 192,714 ------- Total increase according to the Registers 781,043 Being less by 496,592 --------- Than the increase according to the enumeration Abstract for England and Wales, viz. 1,277,635 There are many reasons to suspect the inaccuracy of the Enumeration Abstract of 1801, especially the incompetence and the inexperience of the persons, who were appointed to make the returns. I do not see any reason for calling in question the accuracy of the returns made from the parish registers for the ten years, and if the accuracy of the statement, drawn from this source be admitted, there has been an addition to the population of 1801 of little more than one twelfth part, and in that proportion only, is the increase of crime and misery accounted for by the _increase of population_. It is with the accustomed accuracy of general talkers upon this subject, that I am frequently taught to impute all the blame of this increase of population to a single class of the community, and to consider the restraint of improvident marriages as the only remedy. The Population Abstract leads me to hesitate before I subscribe to this conclusion. On turning to page 24, I read that "The proportion of baptisms to marriages was In 1800 340 to 100 1805 350 -- 100 1810 360 -- 100 1760 366 -- 100," _i. e._ although the proportion of baptisms to marriages has been greatly increased, it is not in the year 1810 so large as in 1760. Neither have the marriages themselves been increased more rapidly than in former periods: the progress from 1785 to 1810, was remarkably even: the average annual increase being about 744 during every year of the period. From 1785 to 1795 were 71,784 marriages 1795 -- 1805 ---- 79,231 ---- 1805 -- 1810 ---- 82,953 ---- The increase of the last five years of the period, was less than that of the half of the preceding ten years, by _three_. But besides the progressive increase of marriages, and the late increased proportion of baptisms to marriages, I find another cause of an increased population, of which no man can complain. I mean, the improved health of the people, which has been attributed to the practice of vaccination, to habits of cleanliness, and the more general use of animal food. "The annual number of burials as collected in pursuance of the population Acts of 1801 and 1811, authorizes a satisfactory inference of diminishing mortality in England, since the year 1780. The average number of registered burials, though considerably fluctuating from year to year, having remained stationary during 21 years, from 1780 to 1800, the first five years of which period, as well as the last five years, and all the twenty one years together, equally average at about 192,000 burials per annum. From 1800 to 1805 the burials average at 194,000. It follows from thence, that about the year 1780, one person in forty died annually; in 1790, one in forty five; in 1800, one in forty seven; in 1810, one in forty nine or fifty; and this improving ratio appears to be indisputable; for although the registry of burials is certainly deficient, no reason can be assigned for believing that the deficiency has been increasing." _Abstract_, p. 22. I hope that this view of diminishing mortality and improving health in England, will be allowed to mitigate the sorrowful apprehensions, which some men are willing to entertain, upon the account of an increase of population, that it will restrain the presumption of attributing this imaginary evil exclusively to the vices and follies of the people; for I suppose that it will hardly be contended that if much has been wisely and justly said, nothing has been vainly and unfeelingly, or unnaturally spoken and conceived upon the subject of improvident marriages. If the preceding calculations should excite any grateful aspirations to the Author of health and strength, both to nations and to individuals, their force will not be weakened by the following observations: "The whole number of baptisms collected for the purposes of the population Acts of 1801 and 1811, appears to be 9,315,016; of these 4,753,865 males, 4,561,151 females. So that the baptisms of males are 10,423 to 10,000 females. The whole number of burials appears to be 7,116,033; of these 3,557,401 males; 3,558,632 females; a remarkable equality in so large a number, and from hence it may be inferred, that the larger proportion of the males born, which may be taken at 4¼ per cent. very exactly balances the number of those who die abroad in the employments of war and commerce." P. 23. This equality is such a proof of the Divine superintendance of the affairs of men, even in matters of population, as should put an end to the prevailing panic concerning its increase and excess and make men to blush at the unnatural restrictions and remedies which have been from time to time proposed, and at the unreasonable, not to say the impious, fears which have been entertained. The evil, if it be an evil, is beyond the controul of man, and whether in its alleged extent, it be or be not exaggerated, it is unquestionably designed in infinite wisdom, to accomplish the great purposes of the Divine Providence. From the beginning to the end of time men have been, and they will continue to be, increasing and multiplying; and if we would turn our attention from unnatural speculations to the true philosophy of nature, every bee-hive may teach us, that _colonization_ is the necessary and natural effect, and the only efficient remedy of a local excess of population. The history of the peopling of the earth is a history of successive colonies and emigrations from the first family, and from the territory which was unable to support the numerous and increasing descendants of that family. I cannot bring myself to believe, that the earth will ever be incapable of affording sufficient sustenance to all its families, however they may be multiplied; and when I hear of the disproportion between the increase of food, and the increase of the consumers of food, I remember, that the disproportion cannot increase indefinitely, since neither man nor the earth which he inhabits has been made for an everlasting duration. Political speculations may be more subtle, but they are not more satisfactory than the moral argument, which is hastily drawn from the increase of population, which in the judgment of a plain man, is neither sufficient to justify the existence of present, or the apprehension of future evil. The great danger of all these views, as is observed with equal wisdom and piety in his Assize Sermon, by Mr. Miller, is, "that they do not seem to recognize or seek for any apparent WILL OF GOD in the constitution of society, but to regard it only as a political machine, and fabric of man's own contrivance." Deeply impressed with the very opposite principle, I believe that the laws of population are under the controul of infinite goodness, wisdom, and power, and though I may be suspected, as I have heard Bishop Watson accused of illiberality and prejudice, and precipitation, for his judgment of a work which he refused to read, I will not suffer my faith to be disturbed by any reasonings of political economists, though I have neither the historical knowledge to disprove the facts which they allege, nor sagacity to refute and expose their philosophical subtlety. While I know that there is One who indeed knoweth the number and wants of all the inhabitants of the earth, I shall not participate in the alarm which may be excited by any theories, be they more or less correct: I shall look upon an increasing population, as the appointed means of peopling the earth, and rejoice in every project of colonization; and I shall have unmixed consolation in the assurance, that possible local, and temporary evil will terminate in certain and universal good. With these sentiments in my heart, I feel no hesitation in subscribing myself ONE OF THE INCREASED POPULATION. PARAPHRASE OF THE LORD'S PRAYER. (_Extracted from Ogden's Sermons._) Abba, Father; thou author, preserver, support of my being, life, hopes, and happiness; who hast brought me into this world, thy work; and redeemed me by thy only begotten Son, through thy Holy Spirit, to an eternal inheritance in heaven; I acknowledge thy authority and thy affection, with reverence and gratitude; I own thy paternal power and tenderness, and approach thy presence with the sentiments of a son, with fear, and love, and joy. Thus emboldened, I raise my thoughts from earth to heaven; I look up to that celestial seat, where thou hast dwelt from eternity, enthroned in majesty above all height, and clothed with light, which no eye can bear to behold. But though thy glory is unsearchable, and I cannot see thee as thou art; yet so much, at least, I can discern of thee by thy image, expressed in thy word, and reflected from thy works, that thou art great, and just, and holy. Thou wilt be "sanctified in them that come nigh thee." Thou requirest truth in the hearts of thy worshippers, and that the lips, which presume to utter thy hallowed name be free both from impurity and fraud. May the number be multiplied without measure of such as present this incense to thy name, and a pure offering: and, Oh! that my voice also might be heard among those who thus adore thee! But, alas! we have been enemies to our God; rebels to thy rightful sway; we have followed the dictates of pride and passion; have been seduced by the tempter, led astray by our own corrupt mind, or by the wiles of others, and thy world hath lain under the power of "the evil one:" how long, O Lord, holy and true? The time will surely come, (let it come speedily!) when thy just dominion shall be universally acknowledged, in every region, by every heart; when thou shalt reign unrivalled in all thy works, and the usurped authority of that apostate spirit, which divides and deforms thy kingdom, be utterly destroyed for ever. In heaven thy will is the inviolable law: myriads of ministers encircle thy throne, who cease not, day and night, to celebrate and to serve thee with uninterrupted praises and unerring obedience. Oh! that such fidelity were found on earth! that the sons of men did even now resemble that celestial society, to which they hope hereafter to be united; were animated with the like holy ardent zeal, and could give themselves to God with the same entire devotion. We are blind and vain, but thou art wise and good. Wise, therefore, in thy wisdom, secure under thy care, great and happy in humility and subjection, we have no wishes but in thee. Our whole desire and glory is to be, to do, to suffer whatever thou art pleased to appoint. During our passage through this perishable state, we trust and know, that thou who gavest us life, will give us also all such things as are necessary for its support: and we ask no more. But, oh! leave us not destitute of that "Bread which cometh down from heaven." Let our souls be nourished by thy word and ordinances; that we grow in grace, and be made partakers of a life that will never end. Wealth, fame, and power, be they freely theirs to whose lot they fall: let our riches be deposited in heaven: the object of our ambition is the light of thy countenance, even the approbation and applause of God. What have I said? ah, me! Can I hope to be justified when I am judged? Dare I trust to that fiery trial! Will my life, or will my heart, endure the inspection of thy pure eye? But there is mercy with thee; let me appeal from the severity of thy justice, and lay hold on this anchor of my hopes. Pity where thou canst not approve, and pardon that which must offend. Then shall my life bear testimony to my thankful heart, and that gratitude which extends not to thee, shall overflow on men. How just is it that I should show to them that mercy which I ask and want. I bless thee for thy goodness, and I feel the "constraint" of love: and do now, from the bottom of my heart, naked before that presence from which no thought is hid, most freely forgive all those who by word or deed, knowingly or ignorantly, have offended, or have injured me. I relinquish all my claims to vengeance. I bury, from this moment, for ever in oblivion, all offences and the very remembrance of resentment: and do most ardently desire, that the sense of thy divine and boundless love may kindle in my breast a flame of thankfulness to thee, which no time can quench, and an affection to men, which no provocation or wrongs can conquer. May this principle of love live in my heart, and direct and animate my actions. I am willing it should be called forth and cultivated by exercise and discipline, and whatever trials or sufferings thy wisdom sees fit for this happy end, I cheerfully embrace them. Shew me no hurtful indulgence. I decline no danger for thy glory, for the good of men, for the improvement of my virtue. Yet remember that I am but dust. Be thou near me in those perilous moments. Let not the storms of trouble and trial overwhelm me. Strengthen my failing faith. When I sink stretch forth thy hand. I rely on thy providence and grace, that thou wilt deliver me from the danger, or support me under it. Save me from sin, from the great enemy of souls, and from eternal misery. These, Lord, are the requests which my heart pours out unto thee. But thou seest the wants which it doth not know: thou hearest the desires it cannot utter. Give us what is good though we ask it not, and mercifully deny when we pray for evil. My soul falls down with the lowest reverence before thy throne, adding its little homage to the profound adorations and triumphant hallelujahs of the whole host of heaven, and all thy saints on earth. Power and honor be to thee, dominion and glory, infinite and everlasting, my Lord, my Father, and my God. THE OLD SHEPHERD. _A TALE._ 'Twas in a solitary glen, Far from the cheerful haunts of men, By poverty oppress'd, and taught The lonely task of silent thought, A Shepherd liv'd, a surly wight, As ever pac'd the mountain's height; He was as cold and eke as grey, As morning in a winter day, And gloomy as November's sky, Old Simon mark'd life's shadow fly. And often from the Mountain's side, The Manor House old Simon spy'd The rich domain of corn and fields, With all that smiling nature yields; And often, as he looked he sigh'd That heaven to him such gifts denied. The Squire had mark'd the ancient swain, And felt in pity for his pain; He mark'd him at the dawn of day Pacing alone the dewy way; At evening hour he saw him tread The bleak hill to his rushy shed, And still he heard him sigh and groan, That he was poor and left alone. Near the large Manor Home, a cot Was doom'd to mend old Simon's lot, The Squire propos'd that straightway he The tenant of this cot should be; Simon was grateful, "yet," said he, "If I'd a little shrubbery A bit of garden, full of flow'rs, 'Twould charm away my summer hours; And there amidst o'er hanging trees I might enjoy the cooling breeze." The Squire complies, and round the cot A thick plantation grac'd the spot. Now Simon wish'd a brook were seen Gliding the shady walks between; Soon from a torrent's rushing way, A little rill was taught to stray; For still the Squire his humour pleas'd, And Simon's varying fancy seiz'd. Simon was grateful, yet he swore He'd be content with one thing more; A little field enclos'd and fair, Where he might quaff the morning air-- The ground was fenc'd, he wished to keep A cow, and half a score of sheep. And still the kind good natur'd Squire Indulg'd him in his soul's desire. Thus favour'd, still was he inclin'd To bear the discontented mind! The wind was cutting, and he found The cottage stood on Northern ground; The soil was coarse, and bleak the air, And loud the tempest rattled there. The brook at times would overflow, And the trees waving to and fro, Disturb'd his rest--the cow and sheep Would stray along the upland steep, And he was old, and could not bear The endless toil of watching there! Now to the Manor House remov'd, Old Simon every comfort prov'd; The wind might howl, the tempest frown, Still Simon slept on bed of down, And all was rich and warm, yet he _Still discontented chose to be_. The following lines were written by the late John Thornton, Esq. of Clapham, upon his receiving a Mourning Ring for a cousin of _his own name_, then lately deceased:-- Welcome, thou presage of my certain doom! I too must sink into the darksome tomb; Yes, little Prophet, thus my name shall stand, A mournful record on some friendly hand. My name! 'tis here--the characters agree! And every faithful letter speaks to me! Bids me prepare to meet my nature's Foe, Serene to feel the Monster's fatal blow; Without a sigh to quit the toils of Time, Secure of glory in a happier clime. Then mount the skies,--forsake my old abode, And gain the plaudit of a smiling God. Receive, Lord Jesus, body, soul, and spirit, Behold my plea,--Thy sufferings and thy merit. Transcriber's Note Obvious punctuation and spelling errors repaired. Pg 102: "...with these extraord- gifts that..." to "...with these extraordinary gifts that..." Pg 114: "Whether these is a scanty..." to "Whether there is a scanty..." [The end of _The Christian Recorder Vol. 2, Issue 3 (1820-May)_ by Various]