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the Jews; and his oblations since the truth is come, which they were intended to prefigure, are preposterous and impious. The Mahometan hath no evidence for the mission of his prophet, no argument for his religion but the sword, and no heaven but sense.The doctrine of "salvation by the remission of sins," through faith in a Redeemer, was, from the beginning, the sum and substance of true religion, which subsisted in promise, prophecy and figure, til! John preached their accomplishment in the person of Jesus. Paganism was a corruption of it before that time, as Mahometism hath been since; and modern Judaism is an apostasy from it. And will christians go away and forsake their Redeemer? To whom can they go? He hath the words of eternal life: he only can give "salvation by the remission of sins." It is this religion which enlightens the understanding with true knowledge, and warms the heart with true charity it is this which alone brings confidence, and comfort, and joy, and bids fear and despondency fly away: it is this which raises the soul, as it were, from the dead, puts new vigor into all her powers and faculties, and animates her to duty, by the powerful motives it suggesteth: it is this which is a counterbalance to the tempt ations of sense, by the promises made to our faith; which supports the infirmity of nature by the glorious objects proposed to our hope; and which triumphs over the opposition of the world by the love of God shed abroad in our hearts: it procures us the only solid happiness there is in this world, and opens a way to the felicities of the next it holds him out to us, who is our "shield" on earth, and will be our "exceeding great reward" in heaven; who "guides us with his counsel, and will, after that, receive us to glory. Whom have we in heaven, O Lord, but thee? and there is none upon earth we can desire in comparison of thee!*

11. "Through the tender mercy of our God; whereby the dayspring from on high hath visited us,

12. To give light to them that sit in darkness, and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace."

St. John was the morning-star, that preceded the sun of righteousness at his rising; an event, the glory of which is due to the "tender mercy of our God," since towards the production of it man could do no more than he can do towards causing the natural sun to rise upon the earth. The blessed effects of the day-spring which then dawned from on high, and gradually increased more and more unto the perfect day, were the dispersion of ignorance, which is the darkness of the intellectual world; the awakening of men from sin, which is the sleep of the soul; and the conversion and direction of their hearts and inclinations into "the way of peace," that is, of reconciliation to God by the blood of Christ; to themselves by the answer of a conscience cleansed from sin, and to one another by mutual love. "Happy is the people that is in such a case; yea happy is the people whose God is the Lord. They are the children of the light and of the day. Their sun shall no more go down, neither shall their moon withdraw itself: for the Lord shall be unto them an everlasting light, and the days of their mourning shall be ended." Psalm lxxiii. 24.

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From the ANTHOLOGY.

Lines, addressed to a Mother, on the
death of two infants, 19th September,
1803, and 19th December, 1806.
SURE, to the mansions of the blest,

When infant innocence ascends,
Some angel, brighter than the rest,
The spotless spirit's flight attends.
On wings of ecstacy they rise
Beyond where worlds material roll:

Till some fair sister of the skies

Receives the unpolluted soul.
There, at the Almighty Father's hand,
Nearest the throne of living light,
The choirs of infant seraphs stand,
And dazzling shine, where all are
bright.

Cham'd for a dreary length of years

Down to these elements below,
Some stain the sky-born spirit bears,
Contracted from this world of woe.
That inextinguishable beam,

With dust united at our birth,
Sheds a more dim, discolour'd gleam,
The more it lingers upon earth.
Clos'd in this dark abode of clay,
The stream of glory faintly burns;
Nor unobscur'd the lucid ray

To its own native fount returns.
But when the Lord of mortal breath
Decrees his bounty to resume,
And points the silent shaft of death,
Which speeds an infant to the tomb;
No passion fierce, no low desire

Has quench'd the radiance of the
flame,

Back to its God, the living fire

Reverts, unclouded as it camé.
Oh, Anna! be that solace thine:

Let hope her healing charm impart,
And soothe, with melodies divine,
The anguish of a mother's heart.
Oh! think the darlings of thy love
Divested of this earthly clod,
Amid unnumber'd saints above,

Bask in the bosom of their God.
Of their short pilgrimage on earth
Still tender images remain;

Still, still they bless thee for their
birth,

Still filial gratitude retain.
The days of pain, the nights of care,
The bosom's agonizing strife,
The pangs which thou for them didst
bear,

No! they forget them not with life.

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While in this vale of tears they dwelt;

Scarce their fond sympathy relieve
The sufferance thou for them hast
felt.

But there the soul's perennial flower
Expands in never-fading bloom;
Spurns at the grave's poor transient

hour,

And shoots immortal from the tomb. No weak, unform'd idea, there

Toils, the mere promise of a mind; The tide of intellect flows clear,

Strong, full, unchanging and refin'd
Each anxious care, each rending sigh,
That wrung for them the parent's
breast,

Dwells on remembrance in the sky,
Amid the raptures of the blest.
O'er thee, with looks of love they bend,

For thee the Lord of life implore;
And oft from sainted bliss descend,

Thy wounded quiet to restore.
Oft in the stillness of the night

They smooth the pillow for thy bed;
Oft, till the morn's returning light,

Still watchful hover o'er thy head. Hark! in such strains as saints employ They whisper to thy bosom, peace; Calm the perturbed heart to joy,

And bid the streaming sorrow cease. Then dry henceforth the bitter tear, Thou wert their guardian angel here, Their part and thine inverted see! They guardian angels now to thee. January 12, 1806.

(ORIGINAL)
SONG.

I LOVE to hear the flute's sweet notes,
On ZEPHYR'S balmy pinion borne;
While soft the melting cadence floats,
And sighing ECHOES wake to mourn;
Stealing on the enraptur'd ear,
At the closing hour of day,
Wildly warbling, sweet and clear.
Grateful as affection's tear,

Then in murmurs die away.

I love to hear, when blushing morn
Tips the clouds with rosy hue,
The new-wak'd lark salute the dawn,
His matin song of praise renew;
Singing as he scales the plain,
Or directs his flight above,
Waking all the tuneful train,

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WE see the process of a piece of work in the hands of the weaver; the threads are so regularly arranged, and the colors so disposed, that there results a marvellous production, representing animals, flowers, &c. : may it not be in like manner, that the images of things perceived by the soul, are formed in the brain? The different vibrations of fibres, combined in a manner almost infinite, may suffice to represent all objects; and the same variations more faintly repeated, may perhaps serve to recal them. We may thus compare the soul to a centinel on a high tower, whence he descries an immense prospect; whatever the eye can perceive in the extent of this prospect, the soul may see perhaps concentrated in a very small space, by means unknown to us. If a man, born deaf, and having, consequently, not even an idea of the organ of hearing, should observe that a person gave orders to men at a distance from him; if he saw them move in consequence of the influence of these orders, he would not comprehend (having no idea of the motive of speech) by what means this single person could move all the rest. It is thus we cannot comprehend the influence of the soul on the body; and it may be by means analogous to the instance just mentioned.

"A short Introduction to the Primitive Faith, as once de

livered to the Saints."

THIS is a small compilation, printed at Danbury, [Con.] intended for the use of children, consisting of the church catechism, with an appendix, also in the catachetical form, explanatory of the fundamental doctrines of the gospel, the institutions of the visible church, her observable days, festivals and fasts; scripture authorities being cited for proof of each point. To these are added short.. prayers and devotional exercises, adapted to the capacities and wants of children. This little publication deserves to be recommended to all parents and heads of families, who wish to train up their children in the ways of piety and the fear of God.

Importance of Time.

"WE take no note of time, but from its loss," was the exclamation of an elegant Poet. Time like a mighty stream which majestically rolls its waves to the Ocean, is hastily bringing all terres

trial things to a close. The regular succession of the seasons, the return of day and night, the strokes of the clock, and the beating pulse, all unite in the confirmation of this solemn truth. Man, like an anxious chariotteer, ardent to reach the goal, presses with rapidity from the cradle to the tomb; or like a traveller, who ascends some towering eminence, that he may discover the place of desti nation, and if by chance it lie within his ken, regardless of the intervening space, he hastes with nimble steps to reach his destined home. So with avidity man urges his chace thro' life, anxious to advance, little considering the value of his fleeting days: Alas! He takes no note of time but from its loss.

This life is but the preface to Eternity. On its page is indicated man's external destiny. The clock, which points out the rapidity of time, intimates eternity by the vibratory motion of its pendulum.

When, in imagination, we travel back through the extensive vale of time, we behold vast crouds of sagacious statesman, subtle philosophers, crafty politicians, elegant poets, eloquent orators, who have appeared on the stage of action, performed their parts and made their exit. How swift, but how harmoniously do the wheels of nature roll; still men will take no note of time but from its loss.

Anecdote of William Burkitt.

THIS pious expositor, going one Sunday to church, from the parsonage-house, met an old college friend, who was purposely coming to give him a call before sermon. After the accustomed salutations, Burkitt told his friend, that as he had intended him the favor of a visit, his parishioners would expect the favor of a sermon. The other excused himself by saying, that he had no sermon with him; but on looking at Burkitt's pocket, and perceiving his sermon case, he drew it gently out, and put it into his own pocket. He then said, smilingly, "Mr. Burkitt I agree to preach for you."— He did so; and preached Burkitt's sermon; but he appeared to great disadvantage after Burkitt, for he had a voice rough and untuneful, whereas Burkitt's was remarkably melodious. "Ah! (said Burkitt to him after sermon in the vestry) you was but half a rogue; you stale my fiddle, but you could dot steal my fiddle-stick.”

Anecdote of Dean Maxwell.

THIS gentleman, who was the intimate friend and companion of Dr. Johnson in the early parts of his fame, and who to an excellent understanding, fine talents, and general reading, has added a good deal of Johnson's aphoristical manner of conversing, being a few years ago at Lord Mount Edgecomb's, which commands so grand and extensive a view of the ocean, looked for some moments with awful admiration at the prospect, and then exclained, the sea is his and he made it, and hie hands prepared the dry land! Soon afterwards coming to the bottom of a high hill, which in the course of seeing the improvements it was necessary to ascend, the Dean who was then above seventy years of age began to demur a little "Come, doctor," says his guide, "the hills are his also, and he made them." "True," says the doctor, "but not for me to climb them."

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Let us now praise famous men :-renowned for their power, giving counsel by their understanding, and declaring prophecies: leaders of the people, by their counsels and their knowledge of learning meet for the people, wise and eloquent in their instructions.

JESUS the Son of SIRACH or ECCLESIASTICUS.

Memoirs of the Right Reverend Samuel Horsley,

L. L. D. F. R. and A. S. late Lord Bishop of St. Asaph.

IT has been truly observed by the great archbishop Tillotson, that "to commend those excellent persons, the virtues of whose lives have been bright and exemplary, is not only a piece of justice due to the dead, but an act of great charity to the living."

Nothing, certainly, is better calculated to excite in the mind an admiration of learning, virtue, and religion, than the perusal of the memoirs of persons who have distinguished themselves in their respective generations as "the lights of the world."

When such luminaries are withdrawn from this hemisphere to shine in a superior region, it becomes a duty in their survivors to record a memorial of their virtues and of their actions, that posterity, instead of enquiring after them in vain, may study to live as they lived, to tread in some degree in their footsteps, and having obtained "grace to follow their good examples, may become with them partakers of the heavenly kingdom."

The loss of pre-eminently great and good men, while it unavoidably occasions regret, will, if thus duly improved, become real gain and substantial benefit to contemporaries, as well as to future generations; for by the faithful delineation of their lives and characters, in conjunction with their literary remains and works of piety and of love, they will continue to "speak energetically even from the silent tomb.'

If this principle had been duly felt and attended to in former days, we should not have to lament, as we now have, the scanty notices which remain with regard to the lives and circumstances of some of the most brilliant ornaments of religion and learning. Of very many by whose labors every age continues to profit, nothing more is

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