thee. How canst thon therefore entertain selfish thoughts of the inconstancy of thy earthly pilgrimage?

Eliab said to the man of God. Thy wisdom has restored peace to my soul! Bit all I do, appears to ine so trifling and so insiguificant! I can only assist the poor and the sufferer in temporal things; my abundance may bring comfort into his hut, but I am denied access to his heart. Blessed art thon, replied the man of God, that thou best imparted thy gifts in humility; therefore thou shalt also receive what is more than all this! With these words, he led Eliab into his garden, to a rosetree. There was a severe drought in the land, and the rose-tree stood in a sandy soil, parched, and its rosebuds were bent to the ground. The man of God bid Eliab to go to the spring, and fetch a pail full of water Eliab did as he had been commanded, and watered the rose-tree. And the tree was refreshed, its leaves assumed a livelier green, and after a while its buds lifted up their heads, and blossomed, and breathed a refreshing odour round about. Behold! said the man of God; in a similar manner the poor man being relieved, lifts his head up to God, breathing gratitude and love, and looks with cheerful confidence upon his fellow creatures: for thou hast been to him a joyful messenger of God and of humanity.

But how ought I to impart any benefits to man? asked Eliab. The man of God answered: With humility as a man, and invisible as God. But if I stand before my brother, and he would express his gratitude to me? The man of God replied: Let thy hand be that of a brother, and let the breathing of thy lips reveal to him the inward heaven of thy heart, which spendeth the benefit.

PATMOS.

When exiled by the crowned tyrant, St. John had landed in Patmos, he threw himself at the foot of a rock, and mourned till late in the night. Suddenly the darkness disappeared, and Raphael and Salem, the two guardian angels of the bosom disciple of Jesus, approached the mourner in their heavenly splendor. The rock shone as a cloud in the rays of the setting sun. What grievest thou, John? asked these inhabitants of heaven.

He answered and said: The occurrences of the day press heavy upon my soul. The tyrant slays the confessors of the truth by thousands; the friends of the risen Redeemer are scattered, and I ain compelled to be far from them. Salem smiled and said: Didst thou not stand on Golgotha's brow, when the exalted bowed his head, and after three days, wert thou not at the empty tomb? I well know, replied the Apostle, the truth will come forth triumphant from the conflict. The gates of hell shall not prevail against it. But oh! this separation from the martyrs and confessors of the truth, whom I love! Ah! I only see the trials of the day. Cheer up, said Paphael, though the present momeut is grievous. True, I cannot give thee the wings of the Seraph,

as long as thou walkest in the dust of the earth; neither needest thou them. Thus spake Raphael, and touched the forehead of the exile. His eyes brightened. He looked through the dark clouds into the sanctuary of heaven, and beheld truth, clad in victory and heavenly splendor. But Salem gave him a harp, and the sweet gift of the song; and the narrow isle of Patmos no longer fettered the inspired disciple.

THE SHEPHERD OF THE PEOPLE.

Samuel, the Judge of Israel, was grieved about Saul, whom he had anointed king of Israel: For he had done evil in the sight of the Lord, and his government had been tyrannical. And the word of the Lord came to Samuel, and said: How long wilt thou mourn for Saul? His dominion shall soon come to an end. Go among the sons of Isai, and choose one of them, that he may be a worthy shepherd of the people. And Samuel came to Bethlehem, and saw the sons of Isai, and selected Eliab, for he was tall and fair. But the spirit of the Lord prevented him and said: Man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh upon the heart! Samuel was perplexed, and again searched among the sons of Isai, that he might select the most worthy. And he asked the father: Are here all thy children? But he replied: There remaineth yet the youngest, and behold! he keepeth the sheep in the mountains. Samuel determined to watch his character and heart, that he might give a faithful shepherd to the people. He therefore went into the mountains, and hid himself in a cave. But David kept the sheep before his eyes.

Behold there came a lion and a bear from the mountains. And the lion carried a sheep from the flock. The youthful shepherd rushed forth, laid hold of the mane of the lion, saved the sheep froin his jaws, and slew him. Afterwards he did the same to the bear.

Samuel was amazed at the strength of the young shepherd; but he still delayed in his heart, and said: True, I have seen his power, and the courageous spirit of the young man: but the Lord looketh upon the beart. He therefore continued his observations.

And behold! the youthful shepherd seated himself on the side of the hill, took his flute from his shepherd's bag, and played before his flock. His faithful dog was resting by his side, the breezes were sporting with the shepherd's locks, and the little lambs were eagerly pressing round him. Thus he was seated in their midst, and played. And when be ceased, his sheep gathered round him, licked his hand and his shepherd's book, and rested at his feet.

Now Samuel no longer hesitated, but exclaimed: I have found a man, born to be the shepherd of the people, for he possesses courage and humanity. And the word of the Lord came to Samuel, and spake: Arise, anoint him, for this is he.

THE SPIDER.

A father once took a walk with bis little son, into the vineyard. There the boy found a bee entangled in the net of a spider. She was already opening her threatening fangs, to kill the bee. But the boy liberated the bee, and destroyed the net. The father saw it, and asked: What makes you think so meanly of the skill of this animal, that you annihilate its artificial net? Did you not observe how beautifully and regularly the tender threads were laid? How can you be so merciful to one insect, and so cruel to the other? the skill of the spider malicious, and doth it not tend to murder and destruction? But the bee gathers honey and wax into her cells; therefore I liberated the bee, and destroyed the web of the spider.

The son replied: Is not

The father approved of the judgment of unbiassed simplicity, that condemns a skill, ever so wonderful, which, arising from a selfish disposition, aims at ruin and injury.

But, continued the father, perhaps you have wronged the spider for all. See, how she protects our ripening grapes by her web, from the attacks of flies and wasps.

Doth she do this, asked the boy, with a view to protect them, or not rather to satisfy her thirst after blood? I doubt, answered the father, whether she troubles herself much about our grapes. The good which she does, without intending it, is of no value. True, said the father, gratitude therefore, is due only to the Creator, who can make what is hurtful in itself, serve for the preservatiou of what is useful.

The son asked again: Why sits the spider so lonely in her web, while the bees live together in a social compact, and labor for one common good? I think that the spiders ought likewise to form one large web together. Dear child, replied the father, only for useful purposes many may unite, the league of selfishness and malice, carries the germ of annihilation in itself. Therefore nature would not attempt, what men so often try, yet find it always impossible and destructive.

As they went home, the boy said, I have learnt to-day something from that ugly insect. Why should you not, replied the father; the Creator has placed the evil by the side of the good, that the latter may appear the more delightful. And thus, man may also learn from the evil.

.WESTERN CONFERENCE.

The Members of the Western Conference of Lutheran Ministers and Candidates in the state of N. York, will convene in St. Paul's Church, Schoharie, on Thursday the 31st of December next.

THE

LUTHERAN MAGAZINE.

VOL. II.]

JANUARY, 1830.

[NO. 12.

[For the Lutheran Magazine.]

NEW-YEAR'S MEDITATION.

From "HOURS OF DEVOTION," by an anonymous Author; translated from the German.*

There is a peculiar solemnity attached to the beginning of a NewYear. It is in a manner the festival, devoted to our silent hopes, our most secret wishes. Here, the solemn tones of the matin-bell, announce the commencement of a new era. There, trumpets and sacred song salute the first morning of the year. With joyful acclamations, the lively band of youths, welcome its approach. Friends and acquaintances wish each other joy with affection. Pious children pray more earnestly for the weal of their parents; sufferers for the life of their benefactors; nations, in their temples, for their governments.

To every man, the boundary of two years is important. To the king upon his throne, as to the beggar under his roof of straw; to the diligent master of a family in the midst of his workmen, as to the mother surrounded by her children; to the old man in his easy-chair, as to the youth ready to rush with excited hopes into the stormy world.

Like a dream, our past life lies behind us; like an impenetrable mist hanging over a land never yet visited, the remnant of our days stretches before us.

More anxious are the cares that harrass the melancholy, brighten the hopes that hover about the cheerful. Every eye is strained to discover the lot, that the ensuing days and months are to bring. Every mind endeavors to guess something of its destines, hidden as yet, in the womb of futurity; but germinating, like seeds in the winter-locked bosom of earth.

Full of vague hopes and anxieties, every one now resumes his wonted occupation, and forms his plans and projects.

The christian too, renews his course; around him too, play fears and hopes. But what are the feelings and dispositions with which he meets, at the beginning of the New-Year, the dark future, and the unknown events that await him?

He seeks a moment when he may be alone, when his soul is its own mistress. He elevates his spirit to the Father Almighty, and to his in

* Supposed to be the present bishop of Constance.

"I am finite love. His lips stammer the thanks of his heart. He says, not worthy of all the mercies, and of all the truth which thou hast showed unto thy servant; for that I am, and what I have, is all from Thee. Thou hast 'led me through a thousand dangers, of which I was often not even conscious. Thou wast present when my trouble and my perplexity rose the highest. Thou didst watch over me and mine, when we faultered; and whatever befel me in the past year, I feel it, is befel me for my welfare; and which, if I cannot yet understand, that it was for my good, I shall hereafter discover it; for this sacred order, in which Thou rulest the world, is wise, is wonderful, and calculated for the supreme felicity of those whom thou sawest fit to create.-Yes, I too, belong to this sacred polity, which is eternal and indestructible as thou art.-I too, am accounted by thee as a member of the same; and calamities themselves, even when I had not brought them upon myself, by my own carelessness; calamities that I could not avoid; calamities under which my heart has bled; even these, were included in Thy holy purpose from eternity; and what thou dost, is well done.

Oh, God! my God, full of inexhaustible grace! Oh, Father! my Father, full of nameless, inexpressible goodness! never forsake me; forsake not me, nor them that are dear to me! forsake us not, even when we go astray. Thy children err. Weeping, we still return to thy compassion.

Yea, Lord, my God, hitherto hast thou holpen me; thou wilt also help in the time to come. Behold, I turn my eyes with confidence upon thee; a sa feeble child clings full of love, and with firm reliance, to the hand of its father or its mother, so I cling to thee. I will follow the precepts of thy holy Son-the precepts of my Redeemer, Jesus Christ; for it is thy word that he has brought unto us; and then await in silent resignation, the lot that thou hast prepared for me and mine, in the coming year.

In thee I confide; therefore, I venture no request. Thou alone knowest what is best for me and mine, and thou wilt give or suffer to befall us, what will be for our good. However, O my God, thou allknowing, many a fervent, deep-felt wish agitates my heart, many a little silent wish, that I would scarce venture to disclose to any one, for fear of being misunderstood; many a wish, too, that I would fain utter aloud with tears: ah! if this should be granted me. Thou knowest it, I need not name it to thee: ah! it were my greatest bliss.

No, ro; what have I spoken? Am I then more wise than the eternal wisdom? Can I know before, what would be for my happiness; I, who do not even know what shall occur on the next day? No, no; Thou all wise, loving Father, I lisp to thee, like an ignorant child, my wishes. But thou wilt grant those only, which may be truly beneficial unto me. Into thy faithful hands I commit myself, and all that are mine, all that are near and dear to my heart. We are thine. Thou, thou only, art our God