329 The Blessings of Affliction. Mrs. W. turning upon him her affectionate pleading eye, mildly replied,-"Oh, Mr. W, do not let us add hypocrisy to all our other sins." "No, my dear,' rejoined the now sincerely kind Mr. W- I am, I trust, no hypocrite. I will read a portion from the sacred volume, and, continued he, turning to Captain Arnold," My friend here, will pray with us." In a few words an explanation was given to his thankful wife, and the bell was rung.-A servant entered: "John, said his Master, "go to my study, and bring me the Bible." "The Bible, sir?" repeated John, doubting if his ears had not deceived him. "Ah, John, you may well ask if I mean the Bible," replied Mr. W—, "Yes, go and bring me that too long neglected book."-The servant disappeared, and while he was gone for the Bible, the bell was again rung for the other servants. They came with some degree of misgiving into his presence, endeavouring to call to mind what they had done, and to receive, as they expected, a severe reprimand, as was not unusual with him. They were, however, additionally surprised, when he kindly desired them to take each a seat, while he read, with peculiar emphasis and solemnity, a portion from the word of God. The Captain prayed, and the evening closed in a way that none had ever witnessed in that dwelling before. Friday came, and on the following Sabbath, Mr. W would have, as usual, to meet his flock in the church. He entered his study;-turned over a heap of sermons, one by one, exclaiming to himself, as he threw aside his former exhibitions,-"that will not do,--that is not proper, that is wretched."-"Is this (he sighed) the trash with which I have been so long in the habit of feeding the souls of my people, or rather starving them with a shadow of the bread of life?-I will, however, no more so insult God, and ruin the people of my charge." Perplexed and confounded, he detertermined to offer an apology to his people, on the following Sabbath, for not having a sermon for them, on the ground of his recent journey-and so dismiss them. The day arrived, and he entered the desk in the morning, and in an impressive tone, never before heard from him, read the service. There was something even about his appearance and manner, so perfectly new and strange to the people, that they gaped with wonder, scarcely believing the evidence of their senses. He ascended the pulpit, and commenced by stating his 330 regret that he had not had time to prepare a discourse agreeably to his present views of truth.-In undisguised simplicity, he informed them of his recent change, the means, its nature, and its effects, and declared he had been among them as a wolf in sheep's clothing, but that he now determined, by the grace of God, to be a true minister of the gospel which he believed; walking in and out before them in uprightness, and feeding them with knowledge, and with the bread of life. Thus he continued, for half an hour or more, preaching Christ to the people, without taking a text, or being aware that he was performing the work which he pledged himself hereafter to accomplish. Overpowered at last by his feelings, he burst into tears, and, descending from the pulpit, was met by his weeping friends, who, hanging upon his arm, or surrounding his person, accompanied him into the vestry. His church was soon filled with such as worshipped God in spirit and in truth; and he still labours, it is believed, with growing pleasure, and increasing success, in his Master's vineyard, blessing the time that he first met with the pious Captain Arnold, or slept in a TWO-BEDDED ROOM. THE BLESSINGS OF AFFLICTION. "It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting."-Ecc. vii. 2. WHEN perplexed with the cares of this life, or disgusted with its frivolous pursuits, we look around in search of some other consolation, as a source of happiness. When having drunk deeply of the cup of affliction, the heart is wounded by its sorrows, and the world withdraws its sympathy, then are we best prepared to think seriously of that which appertains to our eternal welfare. But when prosperity holds out her ensnaring hand, and the earth confers all its honours and allurements, then is man too prone to forget that this world is but a caravansary. Then does he cling with a blind affection to that which is deceitful, and build his hopes upon unstable foundations. Then, alas! are the interests of an hereafter banished from the mind, as unwelcome guests of another world. For as Cowper justly sings, "Pleasure is deaf when told of future pain, And sounds prophetic are too rough to suit Ears long accustomed to the pleasing lute." Julia D-was the gayest of a fashionable and dissipated circle. Deprived of the instructions of a parent at an early age, she had been brought up without restraint, and 331 The Blessings of Affliction. left to rove at liberty in search of pleasure. In person she was lovely; her sparkling eyes betrayed the intelligent countenance, her smiling lips the heart that was unsoured by mortification. Though her education had imparted much that was showy and superficial, yet she was by no means deficient in intellectual attainments. Beautiful, rich, and amiable, she could not be destitute of admirers, who would pour into her ear the language of flattery. Yet, with all that seemed necessary to confer earthly felicity, she was not what the world called her, or what she herself wished to be, happy. A burst of feeling, an exhilarating flow of spirits, often enlivened her countenance, yet as often would the vacancy of an idle hour, or the silence of solitude, whisper that there was "one thing needful." It was the want of this requisite, that impaired her seeming joy in this moment, and launched her out into all the extravagancies of gaiety in the next. It was about this period that she was on the eve of being united to one in every respect her equal. Whatever might have been her feelings with regard to the gaiety and dissipation in which she lived, this last circumstance engrossed her utmost soul, and formed one of the strongest ties that bound her to this world. Without narrating all the intermediate incidents, it may only be observed, that when the full consummation of her happiness seemed to be not only in prospect, but near at hand, she was visited with affliction and grief. He, on whom her earthly felicity depended, was suddenly cut off, and carried to the silent grave. To those who have been brought up in the school of adversity, calamitous events do not excite that unalleviated sorrow, which rends the hearts of those on whom the phial of misery is poured when in the midst of their most joyful prosperity. Julia felt the blow keenly. The chastening hand of Providence had torn away the object of her love, that object which had entwined around her heart's inmost joys. She was like some gay flower on the mountain's brow, on which the unfeeling storm has poured its fury, that still retains existence, even when despoiled of its beauty. She pined in secret. None could sympathize, for none could conceive the ardour of her affection. The condolence of the world was disgusting; it made her deeply sensible of the want of one to whom she could pour out the sorrows of her soul. The sceptic would have arraigned the decrees of Providence. He would have regarded the bereavement not only as cruel, 332 but unjust, and have plunged headlong into the vortex of dissipation. "One part, one little part, we dimly scan But God seeth not as man seeth. It is a good thing to be afflicted; and so Julia felt. The world had lost all its charms. Its pleasures had satiated; its frivolities had lost their enchanting spell. With a heart broken in affliction, where could she turn, but to that neglected source of all goodness? Well would it be, if all would "consider in the day of adversity," and hail the chastening rod, as that which brings the wandering soul back to its duty. But more than this, serious reflection had convinced her of the impropriety of the dissipation in which she had lived, and led her to form those resolutions which she has never since broken. Though the expression of her beautiful features is still melancholy, yet it is that of subdued sorrow. Those sparkling eyes that once flashed with the brilliant coruscations of wit and youthful animation, now beam forth with a mild devotional feeling, that indicates the entire change within. She bears in her countenance that humility, seriousness, and sweetness of disposition, which is one of the surest indexes of the Christian's heart. This is not all: her benevolence and charity to the distressed, and her religious consolations to the afflicted, have endeared her virtues to the humble sons of poverty. Now her heart can adore the mercy of the all-wise Creator in thus weaning man from his too close affection to the world by the hand of affliction, so that he may approach to behold the neglected face of Him who is ever gracious and long-suffering. And now that she has tasted of the imperishable joys which spring from religion, she can see that the cares and pleasures of this life are indeed "vanity and vexation of spirit." Yea, like the gorgeous ice-bergs of the Arctic seas, that glitter beneath the noontide ray, fretted with pinnacles of every hue, even like this perishable fabric, whose glory is fast dissolving away, are all the honours of wealth, beauty, or grace, that deck the votaries of this world. But the glory of the followers of holiness in this life, is like the lustre of the pale evening star, which sprang into being at the creation, and will beam forth from its silver throne, till the heavens shall pass away as a scroll; while in the world to come, it shall blaze with unextinguished lustre through eternity. Beaconsfield. J. A. B. 333 Profanation of the Lord's Day in London. PROFANATION OF THE LORD'S DAY IN LONDON. 66 In col. 1077 of vol. xI. this important subject was introduced to the notice of our readers, and the picture which a survey of the Metropolis presented, was truly appalling. The secretaries of the same Christian Instruction Society," having lately published a circular letter, addressed to ministers of the gospel of every denomination, requesting their mutual co-operation in attempting to arrest the progress of this alarming evil, we select from it the following extract. "We address you as Fellow-Christians, greatly esteemed and beloved; but at the same time as Fellow-Christians possessed of commanding influence, and to whom the Head of the church has, in a peculiar manner, entrusted the interests of his kingdom. A mightier power does not exist under heaven than that with which you are invested, and which it is possible for you to exert. Nothing could stand against a combination of evangelical principle and consecrated talent, like that which you might exhibit; nor is there any result, however grand and momentous, which might not be achieved by means of such a confederacy. It It is for you to fix the standard of practical virtue. "The subject upon which we are anxious to fix your immediate and serious consideration, is that of the LORD'S DAY. We make our appeal in its behalf to the impressions and experience of your own bosoms. It is a season hallowed and endeared to your best feelings, by a thousand sublime and delightful associations. "Of the manner in which the Sabbath is spent in many parts of our city, you are not ignorant. While the appearances presented by a few of the most public and respectable thoroughfares, would seem to intimate that it is a hallowed season, you need only turn into some of the more retired districts during the earlier part of the day, or pay a visit to any of the surrounding suburbs toward its close, in order to receive a widely different impression. At the time when you, and the several flocks over whom the Holy Ghost hath made you overseers, are repairing to the Sanctuary, hundreds of thousands are busily employed in worldly avocations, buying and selling and getting gain; and the hours of your evening worship are hours devoted by them to amusement, voluptuousness, and intoxication. The substance acquired in the morning, is, at night, squandered away in the tavern and the brothel; and in this Christian country, and this the most enlightened metropolis of ..... 334 Europe, never are scenes of such gross and appalling wickedness exhibited, and never are such mournful and disgusting spectacles of human degradation to be witnessed, as on the day professedly set apart for religious purposes ! "Surely, Sirs, the consideration of a fact notorious, is calculated to excite alarm; so melancholy, and yet so palpable and and occupying as we do a position, where many of its most flagrant instances are continually coming before us, you cannot feel surprised that we should be the subjects of intense and ever-wakeful anxiety respecting it, and deeply concerned that it should engage the serious attention of others. "There is, however, reason to apprehend, that the evil we deplore is not confined to the haunts of iniquity, or peculiar to the ignorant and impious. It is greatly to be feared, that even among professors of evangelical religion, ideas and practices, utterly at variance with the sacredness of the Sabbath, have become lamentably prevalent; and that where it may not be openly profaned, it is in innumerable instances, far, very far, from being reverenced and sanctified as it ought. Are not many of those, accustomed to attend upon your holy ministrations, and called too by the name of Jesus, chargeable with spending not a few of its precious hours in idleness, in unprofitable and unseasonable conversation, in paying or receiving visits, and in entertaining company, or seeking to be themselves entertained? Are not many of those who sustain the important character of Masters and Mistresses, guilty of great negligence in their selection of individuals to serve them; and of yet greater negligence in their treatment of the spiritual and eternal interests of such individuals, when brought under their care, and introduced into their households? Are not many of those who keep their shops open on the Lord's Day, and can, without shame, transact their usual business, emboldened by the thought, that much of what they get during that hallowed season, comes from professors of godliness, or, at least, from regular attendants upon the preaching of the gospel; while the godly and conscientious man, who nobly and resolutely refrains from his wonted occupation, and shuts out the world from his house, and would shut it out from his heart, is thus deprived of the gain to which the New Testament declares him entitled? Mark x. 29. 1 Tim. iv. 8. Are not many of those whom we behold, during the intervals of public worship, parading our streets and our squares, and the fields of our vicinity, for the mere sake of personal enjoyment, the 335 Essay on Honour. 336 younger branches of religious families? | abundantly rest upon you! In making this And among the thousands of both sexes, who, as regularly as the Sabbath returns, form themselves into parties of pleasure, and repair to the scenes of gaiety and dissipation, are not hundreds the apprentices of persons whose piety it would be most uncharitable to doubt-persons, perhaps, standing high in the esteem of the Christian world, and eminent for liberality and zeal? "O ye servants of the living God! these things ought not to be.-We complain not of your exertions, and let us not be understood as insinuating that you have been deficient. Had your endeavours been duly appreciated, and had the spirit of those truths which you are accustomed to enforce been imbibed, the moral aspect of society must have become very different from what it is. But we ask, Can nothing more be done? We want a grand simultaneous movement in reference to the Sabbath. In effecting such a movement, you must be the prime agents. It were useless, and perhaps worse than useless, to secure the enforcement of human laws, if there be not the operation of a higher and holier lawthat law of truth and of love, the nature of which you are appointed to unfold, and the influence of which you must be instrumental of bringing to bear upon the conscience and the heart. It is in the Church that, in this, as in almost every other respect, reform must begin. The Church is not what she ought to be. The Church is not doing her duty, either to herself or to the world. If she were, instead of acting upon the principles of the world, as is now so frequently the case, the world would be compelled to act upon her principles. Suffer us then, with all affection and earnestness, to intreat that you will assiduously and constantly seek to bring about and promote a revival of genuine godliness in the different societies with which you may be connected; and especially that you will keep the claims and privileges of the Sabbath always in the thoughts and imaginations of your people. Suffer us to intreat that you will give yourselves no rest until you see them roused to a proper sense of its importance-a correct appreciation of its value-a right discharge of its duties-and that deep concern for its improvement, which ought never to be absent from a Christian's bosom; and until, when thinking of them at its commencement or its close, or when looking upon them as assembled in the sanctuary, you can feel an unwavering assurance that, 66 IT IS THE SABBATH OF THE LORD IN ALL THEIR DWELLINGS.'" May the Spirit of wisdom and of power THE love of praise is one of the strongest and most influential of the human passions : it appears to be as natural as the love of existence; and in some cases it even shews itself to be a stronger principle. But this passion has shared very extensively in our common depravity; none appears so blind and erring. In judging of the true nature of honour, and its legitimate sources, the reason of most men appears to be as perverted and besotted as it can be. Thus numbers are ashamed of that which is man's highest glory, namely, piety; and glory in that which is his foulest, nay, his only disgrace, that is, sin. Or, in the expressive language of scripture, Their glory is in their shame." Beyond this point of mental and moral degradation, there can certainly be no progress. 66 In attending to the nature of honour, we must, first of all, apprise ourselves of the important distinction there is between honour bestowed, and honour deserved: these form two different sorts of honour; they are distinct when united; but they are often separated. Praise is sought by many, and is often conferred upon those who neither merit it, nor care to merit it. It is not this extensive honour-if I may be so allowed to name it-that I design at present to contemplate, but rather that which is intrinsic and proper, or that which makes men worthy to receive honour from others. What, then, is the true source, or sources, of dignity and glory in the human character? In the discussion of this question, we must lay down, and constantly recognize, the following principle or axiom, namely, that the true excellence or importance of any being consists, 1st, in its capacity for the enjoyment of happiness; and 2dly, in its capabilities of communicating happiness to others; including also the disposition or inclination to employ these powers for this end. Therefore any action, or habit, or endowment, whether of the mind or body-whether natural or acquired—or, in a word, whatever appertains to our character or conduct, confers honour upon us just in proportion as it contributes to our happiness, and to our ability to promote the happiness of others. The application of this plain principle to all the received sources of honour, will enable us with certainty to perceive how far they are entitled to be thus regarded. It will also be useful in this inquiry to recollect another very important principle, namely, that as the Divine Being is the source, so he must be the standard of all excellence, and that consequently the human character is dignified in the same proportion it resembles the Divine. These two principles perfectly harmonize; for all the majesty and glory of God may be referred, either to the boundless happiness of his nature, or to his infinite power and perfect willingness to communicate happiness to his creatures. When God made man, he sought for no original or pattern out of himself, but he made him "in his own image." Here, then, is the true honour of man, to be like his Maker: first, in moral rectitude; secondly, in correct intelligence; and lastly, in those accidental, or rather providential endowments, which, though they constitute no part of his real worth, are yet valuable as means, or instruments of exercising his real talents, and displaying his real worth. Moral rectitude, or holiness, is unquestionably the noblest attribute of man: in the absence of this, no one can be either happy or useful; it is that which gives to all other excellencies their value; it must, therefore, be regarded as the basis of whatever dignifies the human character. Moral rectitude is both internal and external. That which is internal consists in correct and regulated affections, or purity of heart. If we are the subjects of this purity, our supreme affections will be placed on God; we shall love him as the best, and adore him as the greatest of beings, and intensely desire and value his favour as our chief good. Our attachment to inferior beings and things will be regulated by their excellence, or their importance to our own welfare; but all our earthly attachments will be of a subordinate character; all deeply imbued with, and under the control of, the spirit of piety. In our esteem, the excellent of the earth will be those who manifest most love to God and his truth, but for all mankind we 136.-VOL. XII. 338 shall cherish a feeling of benevolence, which will lead us to seek their welfare. The happiness of others we shall think of as much importance as our own, and much more important than our temporary pleasure, which we shall never repine to forego for the sake of promoting the essential welfare of our fellow-creatures. From this heavenly disposition will spring all its kindred graces of humility, meekness, forbearance, and forgiveness of injuries, patience, and courage; for "charity suffereth long, and is kind-charity envieth not-charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things." But rectitude of conduct will not fail to result from purity of heart: our whole temper and conduct will accord with the principles of truth, justice, kindness, and temperance; and being deeply sensible that it is "not in man to direct his steps," we shall thankfully receive God's holy law, as revealed in his word, as a "lamp to our feet, and a lantern to our path," diligently labouring to follow its light, and conform to its directions. Now the individual whose moral character accords with this description, however humble may be his condition in life, or scanty his stores of knowledge, is a truly honourable character. He resembles God in his most glorious perfections; he has, therefore, the honour of being approved by God, and esteemed by all the wise and good. Next to piety and virtue, sound learning, and mental superiority, greatly elevate and ennoble the human character. By this I mean, a mind expanded by useful knowledge, and improved by the exercise of its own powers. A rational nature is the grand characteristic of man, as distinguished from mere animals: from it results his moral agency, his capacity for religion, and all his noblest affections, talents, and actions. The mind is susceptible of interminable improvement; insomuch, that education makes as striking a difference between one man and another, as reason, in its unimproved state, makes between men and animals. Place an individual, who has enjoyed and improved all the advantages of a liberal education, whose reasoning powers are sharpened and disciplined by long and well-directed exercise, and whose mind is enriched by all that is useful in the empire of knowledge,-place such a person, I say Y |