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standing of man as darkened, and his mind as depraved; and it sends him an omnipotent Sanctifier, whose invincible influences illuminate, and purify, and regenerate the soul. Christianity thus destroys the deeplyrooted enmity of the heart, and brings the alienated rebel to God as his heavenly Father, to receive the unnumbered blessings of divine adoption; and to enjoy the sweet assurances of immortality in the life everlasting.

This system of sovereign grace and mercy implants the principles and enforces the practice of every virtue which can exalt, adorn, and improve the human character. Where it has been fully received, it has annihilated the cruel barbarities and the degrading customs inseparable from every species of slavery. It has elevated lovely woman to her righteous equality with man -it has sanctified the conjugal relation-it has inculcated the duty, and exemplified the expression of domestic harmony, and of parental and filial affectionit enforces mutual forgiveness, confidence, and brotherly love, irrespective of clime, and age, and country. It binds all classes together in universal sympathy, under a sense of our common necessities, as equally children of the same Almighty Parent; and being Christians, as members of the same mystical body.

Christianity is the benevolent angel of celestial mercy to the children of wretchedness and affliction, anticipating every kind and every measure of human misery and woe." To the influence of Christianity are to be attributed those asylums for the relief of the miserable, which humanity has consecrated as monuments of beneficence. Constantine was the first who built hospitals for the reception and maintenance of the sick and wounded in the different provinces of the empire. These establishments were multiplied in the sixth, seventh, and eighth centuries, in Italy, France, and Spain. They were afterwards so generally adopted, that, according to Matthew Paris, not less than 19,000 charitable houses for leprosy alone existed in the Christian states in the tenth century. Rome contains forty hospitals for various charitable purposes. The number of similar establishments in Petersburgh is almost incre dible to those who recollect the sudden growth of that capital. In Paris, besides private establishments, there were, before the revolution, forty-eight public founda. tions for the relief of disease and indigence. Since that disastrous period, the increase of physical misery and the neglect of moral good and healing mercy have afforded a melancholy proof, that the exercise of the virtues of humanity is proportional to the cultivation or decay of religion."

The metropolis of our favoured country is eminently distinguished above every city in the world by such noble monuments of Christian charity. In every part of it are to be seen, hospitals, infirmaries, dispensaries, and asylums, built and endowed by the benevolence and compassion of the disciples of Christ, provided for the relief of the sick and the poor, the blind and the dumb, the aged and the orphan. The detail would show a list of many hundreds in our British capital, besides the incalculable number of the same monumental ornaments which dignify and bless every city and town in the kingdom.

Christianity has given us our inestimable sabbaths it has sanctified to our enjoyment this seventh part of our days for the necessary and merciful purposes of repose, instruction, and devotion. It prescribes our social meetings on the day of the Lord, to cherish fraternal affection, to increase rational and enlightened piety, and mutually to encourage our sublimest anticipations of a glorious immortality, at the termination of our earthly sorrows.

The sacred and social exercises of the Christian sab

bath promote the purest, the most enlarged philan thropy, and they have been the means of constraining the disciples of Christ to care for the salvation of the souls of others. The immortal welfare of their neighbours, of their fellow countrymen, and of the earth's population, has engaged their benevolent solicitude. Probably, more than fifty thousand children of the indigent, are, in Britain, supported and clothed, and educated in their duty to God and man, by means of the bounty of deceased Christians. Not less than a million of the children of our labouring poor are collected every sabbath, and gratuitously, by a hundred thousand disciples of Christ, they are taught to read the words of eternal life. Thus they are directed in the practice of virtue by the doctrine of salvation, and taught how they may glorify God and enjoy him for ever. The principles of British Christians inspire them to contribute, constrained by love to their Saviour, to the amount of four hundred thousand pounds annually for the divine purposes of improving the condition of all the families upon earth, and for their advancement in knowledge and undefiled religion. British Christians support sia hundred Missionaries among the degraded and perishing heathen-to learn their languages-to translate for them the oracles of God, to preach among them the unsearchable riches of Christ-to instruct their children in heavenly wisdom-to bring down upon guilty and depraved nations the unspeakable blessings of redeeming grace and by the only Mediator between God and sinners, to lead them to the possession of life everlasting.

The numerous privations, the painful sufferings, and the difficult labours which are endured by our self-denying Christian brethren, in their Missionary services, are known only to themselves and to their gracious Master; but he supplies them richly with present divine supports and consolations; and he will crown their zealous toils with "a far more exceeding and an eternal weight of glory."

Such are the inestimable fruits of Christianity. This is, indeed, an exceedingly imperfect exhibition; but who would presume upon ability to declare the whole? "The eye hath not seen, the ear hath not heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive what God hath prepared, even on earth, for them that love him," as the first fruits of Christian benevolence.

But has Deism or Anti-christianity, in any of its forms, produced fruit, bearing the least resemblance to this, in any measure, in any age, or in any country? Alas! no. Yet its votaries are unconvinced of their folly. They are shameless, or the wondrous facts of the sober history of Christianity would overwhelm them in confusion, while cherishing their unbelief. They obstinately reject the gospel of salvation. They caricature its celestial features, and then endeavour to expose it as an object of contempt and scorn. Shame upon their irrational, debasing, and inhuman efforts! Their wild and malicious ravings, however, supply to Christians an important lesson. They afford a demonstration of the radical corruption of the human heart, which itself is the grand reason for our holy and regenerating religion.

Should any plain and unlettered inquirer after the "truth," have no ability to examine any of the other evidences of Christianity, the fruits here discovered, will be found sufficient to prove its divinity against all the cavils of infidel or irreligious men. It is needful, however, for every reader to remember, that a rational conviction of the truth and divinity of the gospel is not sufficient for the salvation of the soul. Every real Christian possesses in his own bosom an inward, sanctifying, comforting evidence, impressing and transforming his mind. "The kingdom of God is within

you," says our Lord. "The kingdom of God is righteousness and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost," says his apostle Paul. John declares, "He that believeth on the Son of God hath the witness in himself."

"The gospel of Christ is like a seal or signet, of such inimitable and divine engraving, that no created power can counterfeit it; and when the Spirit of God has stamped this gospel on the soul, there are so many holy and happy lines drawn or impressed thereby-so many sacred signatures and divine features stamped on the mind, that give certain evidence both of a heavenly signet and a heavenly operator."

This inward evidence of Christianity is of serious and indispensable necessity, not to illiterate villagers only, but even to the most learned believer, as it constitutes the essence of religion; it is ever ready at hand, depending, not upon argument, intellect, or science, but upon the individual possession of the Holy Spirit: it is proof against all the temptations of the adversaryit will be present at every season of trial-it will supply the want of ministers and means, in the chamber of sickness-and it will serve as an anchor of the soul, until its possessor enjoy an abundant entrance into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.

IGNORANCE AND CRIME INSEPARABLE. THERE are most melancholy exceptions to the general instruction of our countrymen, and their ignorance produces its natural fruits. The following is an affecting illustration of this fact.

I have ever been convinced that ignorance is productive of crime: but nothing can so fully confirm that conviction as an intimate knowledge of the inmates of a prison. From Jan. 1825, to March 1826, four hundred persons came under my examination. Of these, one hundred and seventy-three could neither read nor write; twenty merely knew the alphabet; forty-nine could read very imperfectly, so as not to be able to obtain any information by it; fifty-nine could read only; and ninety-nine could read and write. But this statement by no means presents the sum of ignorance in these persons. Nothing but actual investigation can render credible the gross ignorance that painfully comes under the observation of a chaplain in a gaol. Even among prisoners who have mechanically learned to read and write, there exists, generally speaking, a lamentable ignorance of moral and religious duties and the awful sanctions of religion: and of the rest, some know as little of the very first principles of religion, as the wildest savage. And yet, the prisoners are gene. rally willing to learn, and attentive to the instructions afforded them."-Testimony of the Rev. Mr. Brown, Chaplain of Norwich Castle.

PERILS OF THE DEEP.

From the narrative of Lord Cochrane's cruise in 1821, in search of the Spanish fleet.

THE dangers and privations endured on this cruise have seldom been surpassed. The crazy ships were tossed about in a tempestuous and unfrequented sea, while the ill-paid and discontented crews, suffering from great scarcity of fresh water and of provisions, were obliged to keep constantly working at the pumps. At one time, after a long calm, and when ninety leagues from the nearest land, the stock of water in the whole squadron was reduced to less than a hundred gallons. The crews were in a state of consternation at the horrid death which seemed to await them, and which no human efforts could avert. Every eye was lifted towards

heaven; fervent ejaculations were uttered; for, on such trying occasions, there are no unbelievers. The crews were a medley of all religions; but the same thoughts, the same fears, and the same hope in the all-powerful Director of events, pervaded every breast. When the feelings of all were approaching to frenzy and despair-when they had arrived at that pitch of heart-rending agony, of which none, but those who have experienced similar calamities, can form any idea at this critical period the sky assumed a threatening aspect; the lightning flashed on the horizon; black clouds arose; peals of thunder resounded through the air, and every thing indicated an approaching storm. The drooping spirits of the sufferers revived, and one and all earnestly looked for the speedy bursting of the tempest. Dangers which, at other times, would have been dreaded, in such shattered vessels, were now hailed with rapture. The rain soon fell in torrents, and, as if escaped from shipwreck, the men wept with joy. Every awning and sail that could be made available was spread. It continued unceasingly for twenty-four hours, and every cask was filled. The wind, boisterous at first, soon moderated into a fair steady breeze, and the trials and danger of the sufferers were forgotten.

IMMOLATION OF WOMEN AMONG THE
AFRICANS.

"LANDERS' Journal of an Expedition to explore the Course and Termination of the Niger," supplies us with an instructive variety of information concerning, not only the important geography of Africa, but respecting its ignorant and superstitious inhabitants. It seems that the sable Yarribanians in Africa practise some abominations similar to the degraded Hindoos in Asia, When a governor dies, one or two of his favourite wives are expected to quit the world on the same day, "to bear him company." Nature cannot but rise up and rebel against a custom so repugnant to its first dictates; as we find in the case of the sable ladies of Negroland. Two of the devoted wives of the late governor of Jenna had fled and concealed themselves with the remainder of his women, in the hope of being able to elude the honourable death, which superstition pretended would restore them to their deceased lord. Landers' account of the conduct of one of these unhappy creatures on being discovered, is deeply affecting, and we are sure it will be interesting to our readers."

was

"To-day one of these unfortunates (she to whom our house belongs) was discovered in her hiding-place at the governor's, and the alternative of a poisoned chalice, or to have her head broken by the club of the fetish priest, was offered her. She has chosen the former mode of dying, as being the less terrible of the two, and has come to our yard, to spend her last hours in the society of her faithful slaves. These address their mistress by the endearing name of mother. Poor creatures! as soon as they learned her misfortune, they dropped their spinning; the grinding of corn. also relinquished; their sheep, goats, and poultry were suffered to roam at large without restraint; and they abandoned themselves to the most excessive grief. But now, the arrival of their mistress has added, if possible, to their affliction.-Females have been coming all day to condole with the old lady, and to weep with her; so that we have heard and seen nothing but sobbing and crying from morning till the setting of the sun. The principal males in the town have likewise been here, to pay their last respects to their mistress; and so has her grave-digger, who has just risen from prostrating himself on the ground before her. Notwithstanding the representations and remonstrances of the priest, and

the prayers of the venerable victim to her gods for fortitude to undergo the dreadful ordeal, her resolution has forsaken her more than once. She has entered our yard twice, to expire in the armsof the women, and twice has she laid aside the fatal poison, in order to take another walk, and gaze on the splendour of the sun and the glory of the heavens, for she cannot bear the idea of losing sight of them for ever. She is still restless and uneasy, and would gladly run away from death, if she durst, for that imaginary being appears to her in a more terrible light than our pictures represent him with his shadowy form and fatal dart. Die she must, and she knows it; nevertheless she will tenaciously cling to life till the very last moment. Meanwhile her grave is preparing, and preparations are making for a wake at her funeral. She is to be buried here in one of her own huts, the moment after the spirit has quitted the body, which will be ascertained by striking the ground near which it may be lying at the time, when, if no motion or struggle ensues, the old woman will be considered as dead. The poison used by the natives on this occasion destroys life, it is said, in fifteen minutes."

"Widows are burnt in India, just as they are poisoned or clubbed here. The origin of this abominable custom is understood to have arisen from a dread on the part of the chiefs of the country in olden time, that their principal wives, who alone were in possession of their confidence, and knew where their money was concealed, might secretly attempt their life, in order at once to establish their own freedom, and become possessed of the property. That, far from any motives to destroy her husband, a woman might, on the contrary, have a strong inducement to cherish him as long as possible, the existence of the wife was made to depend entirely on that of her lord."

WHAT IS GLORY?

ALTERED FROM P. S. COURTIER.

What is glory? Say, a feather,
Mounted on the buoyant air,
Prey to every wind and weather,
Often soil'd, and seldom fair.
What is glory? Ask the garter
Twining round his grace's knee:
Wouldst thou ease and conscience barter,
Such a thing on thine to see?
What is glory? Ask the maiden
Wedded to a titled drone;
Sick at soul, and heavy laden,
Empty pageantry her own.
What is glory? Ask the lawyer,
Feeless trudging to the court;
Harder work than any sawyer,
Ceaseless labour, less support.
What is glory? Ask the miser,
Starving mid his bags of gold.
Ask his heir; he hardly wiser,
Scattering wide the sordid mould.
What is glory? Ask the poet,
Pocket low, and wishes high;
Wanting and yet none must know it-
All but earth, and air, and sky.
What is glory? Ask the sailor,

Weather-beaten, tempest-tost:
Ship his prison, winds his jailor;
Kindred, friend, and country lost.
What is glory? Hero! striding
Madly o'er a ruin'd land.

What is glory? Time is gliding;

Death and judgment are at hand. What is glory? Ask the Christian, Looking for immortal joys; He can wisely solve the question, Heir, through Christ, of Paradise!

THE SILENT REPROOF.

SUPERBUS was blessed in no ordinary degree by the bountiful hand of Providence, which had showered its gifts upon him in rich abundance. A healthy body, an ample estate, a thriving family, and friends on every hand. But " a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of his possessions," and with all these advantages, Superbus was unhappy. Such must be the lot of the man, whatever his earthly condition, whose happiness is derived merely from the objects around him, which all perish with the using, and leave in the soul a void that can only be filled by its Infinite Author. But Superbus had a still acuter sting in his mind. He had drank deep in the cup of infidelity; and not content with ridiculing the idea of the superintending care of the Most High, he at length proceeded to doubt, and at last to deny his existence. Respect for the opinions of others, and doubtless some remains of the working of God's vicegerent within, prevented a very open avowal of his sentiments; but such was the man in reality, however outwardly conformed to the observances of those around him.

One summer's day, while regaling himself with the beauties of creation in his pleasure grounds, which were laid out with exquisite taste, he sat down under the spreading branches of an oak, to enjoy the scene, and to pursue those speculations to which he had been long accustomed. Nature in her gayest hues was before him;-every flower the earth could produce to gratify the eye by its colour or form, to excite admiration by the peculiarity of its structure, or to regale the senses by its fragrance-while the adjoining groves were made vocal by the song of the happy inhabitants of the firmament, who were glorifying their Creator by a general chorus of praise. Amongst other objects, on a raised bed at a short distance "forth crept the swelling gourd," wantoning in all the luxuriance of its own nature, aided by the most careful cultivation. But, alas for our philosopher! as the spider extracts poison from the same flowers where the bee gathers honey; so he turned the bounties of his Creator to his own bane. "Preposterous!" said he, "How preposterous the idea, that the wonders we see around us are the production of an Almighty agent! Would a Being of infinite wisdom, or indeed of any wisdom at all, have created a plant such as I see before me; so weak as to trail its branches on the ground, yet bearing a fruit of many pounds weight; while the monarch of the forest, beneath whose ample shade I am reposing, produces only the diminutive acorn! No-doubtless these things are all the work of chance."

"The Lord knoweth the thoughts of the wise that they are vain," and not unfrequently instructs our ignorance and mortifies our pride, in a way equally unexpected and effectual. In the midst of the philosopher's meditations, the breath of heaven agitated the branches of the oak, and a falling acorn gently tapped him on the head. The most convincing train of reasoning could not have produced such a revolution in his mind, as was here wrought in an instant. He gazed a moment on the little silent monitor as it rolled at his feet, and with deeply-humbled pride and admiring gratitude he exclaimed-"What a mercy that was not a pumpkin!"

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THE HIPPOPOTAMUS. HIPPOPOTAMUS, the River Horse (from two Greek words, hippos, a horse, and potamos, a river), is an enormous animal, supposed by many to be the creature called Behemoth, in Job xl, 15-24. Mr. Greenfield, the learned Editor of the Comprehensive Bible," gives a striking description of it as follows"It is nearly as large as the elephant: its head is enormously large; its mouth very wide; the jaws extending upwards of two feet, armed with four cutting teeth each twelve inches long; its hide is so tough and so thick as to resist the strokes of a sabre, and is thinly covered with hair of a lightish colour; its legs are three feet long. Though amphibious, its hoofs which are quadrifid are unconnected; and its tail is naked, about a foot in length, but exceedingly thick and strong. It inhabits the rivers of Africa; feeds on grass and other vegetables; moves slowly and heavily; swims dexterously; sleeps in reedy places; has a tremendous voice, between the lowing of the ox, and the roar of the ele phant; when irritated, will attack boats and men with fury."-Note on Job xl.

Mr. Carpenter, in his "Scripture Natural History," referring to Zeringhi, an Italian surgeon, who procured one of these animals to be killed on the banks of the Nile, says, "The hippopotamus which Zeringhi brought from the Nile to Italy was sixteen feet nine inches long, from the extremity of the muzzle to the origin of the tail; fifteen feet in circumference; and six feet and a half high; and the legs were about two feet ten inches long. The head was three feet and a half in length, and eight feet and a half in circumference. The opening of the mouth was two feet four inches, and the largest teeth were more than a foot long."

Dr. Pocock mentions having seen the flesh of the hippopotami sold in the shambles like beef and it is said, that their breast in particular is as delicate eating as veul. They are said to weigh as much as four or five oxen.

Sparman, in his "Voyages to the Cape of Good Hope," calls them Seu Cows, and mentions one that had been shot at the Cape, whose bulk was so great, that twelve oxen were found necessary to draw it on shore. He further says, 66 on my return to Sweden, I had the honour to furnish His Majesty's table with a dried Sea Cow's tongue, two feet eight inches long."

Various methods, both in the water and on the land, are employed in vanquishing this creature, all of which are attended with serious danger. Canoes or boats are upset, or smashed to pieces by one gripe in his enor

mous jaws; which are sometimes dreadfully fatal to the luckless negro hunter on land, of which, if our limits would allow, we might give some instructive instances.

HIPPOPOTAMI IN THE RIVER NIGER.

It is probable that, on account of the increase of mankind in every part of the world, monstrous beasts and reptiles are far less numerous than in former ages. Still it appears that in Africa, hippopotami are numerous, as we learn from the following extract from Landers' Travels. Descending the Niger in a large canoe, he says- -"We had paddled along the banks a distance of not less than thirty miles, every inch of which we had attentively examined, but not a bit of dry land could anywhere be discovered, which was firm enough to bear our weight. Therefore we resigned ourselves to circumstances, and all of us having been refreshed with a little cold rice and honey, and water from the stream, we permitted the canoe to drive down with the current, for our men were too much fatigued with the labours of the day to work any longer.

"But here a fresh evil arose, which we were unprepared to meet. An incredible number of hippopotami arose very near us, and came plashing, snorting, and plunging all round the canoe, and placed us in imminent danger. Thinking to frighten them off, we fired a shot or two at them, but the noise only called up from the water, and out of the fens, about as many more of their unweildy companions, and we were more closely beset than before. Our people, who had never in all their lives been exposed in a canoe to such huge and formidable beasts, trembled with fear and apprehension, and absolutely wept aloud; and their terror was not a little increased by the dreadful peals of thunder which rattled over their heads, and by the awful darkness which prevailed, broken at intervals by flashes of lightning whose powerful glare was truly awful. Our people tell us, that these formidable animals frequently upset canoes in the river, when every one in them is sure to perish. These came so close to us at first that we could reach them with the butt end of a gun. When I fired at the first, which I must have hit, every one of them came to the surface of the water, and pursued us so fast over to the north bank, that it was with the greatest difficulty imaginable we could keep before them. Having fired a second time, the report of my gun was followed by a loud roaring noise, and we seemed to measure our distance from them. There were two Bornou men among our crew, who were not so frightened as the rest, having seen some of these creatures before on Lake Tchad, where, they say, plenty of them abound. However the terrible hippopotami did us no kind of mischief at all; no doubt, at first, when we interrupted them, they were only sporting and wallowing in the river for their own amusement, but had they upset our canoe, we should have paid dearly for it.",

ANIMAL SAGACITY.

THE faculty by which animals can communicate their ideas to each other is very striking; in dogs it is particularly remarkable. There are many curious anecdotes recorded, illustrative of this faculty; but we prefer giving one from our own knowledge. At Horton, in Buckinghamshire (a village where Milton passed some of his early days), about the year 1818, a gentleman from London took possession of a house, the former tenant of which had moved to a farm about half a mile off. The new inmate brought with him a large French poodle, to take the duty of watchman, in the place of a fine Newfoundland dog, which went away

with his master: but a puppy of the same breed was left behind; and he was incessantly persecuted by the poodle. As the puppy grew up, the persecution still continued. At length, he was one day missing for some hours; but he did not come back alone: he returned with his old friend, the large house-dog, to whom he had made a communication; and in an instant the two fell upon the unhappy poodle, and killed him before he could be rescued from their fury. In this case, the injuries of the young dog must have been made known to his friend; a plan of revenge concerted; and the determination to carry that plan into effect formed and executed with equal promptitude.-Library of Entertaining Knowledge.

ON GENIUS. (BY DR. LINN.)

THE following Reflections on the Nature of Genius, do much honour to the author, who was a native of America, and promised to be an ornament to his country, but was cut off at an early age, leaving behind him only some pieces on Theological Controversy with Dr. Priestley, and the "Powers of Genius," and a few smaller poems, which have been reprinted in England, but are not known equal to their merit.

"Genius is the highest power of the soul, and opens before the poet a subject interesting and extensive. The different faculties which are subservient to its influence, have frequently undergone investigation; while genius itself has seldom been examined with care. Genius receives assistance from all the intellectual powers; but it is, however, to be carefully distinguished from them. We often meet with works of great invention, abounding with errors: the defect then, is not in the genius. It is necessary to direct the wild sallies of imagination, and to regulate the course of the inventive mind. Taste is more generally bestowed upon mankind than genius, and is dependent on cultivation and rules. Genius, though always incorrect without study and investigation, still overcomes every difficulty, and penetrates through the thickest and most hidden recesses. It stoops not to the smaller niceties of taste, but heedless of them, pours along its irresistible course. An excellent taste may exist with little invention, but invention is the distinguishing mark of genius. Taste is improved by the comparison of the different grades of sublimity and beauty. Genius, disdaining any imitation, strikes out a path for itself, wild and hazardous, where foot has never trodden. Genius (says Lord Kaimes) is allied to a warm and inflammable constitution; delicacy of taste to calmness and sedateness: hence it is common to meet with genius in one who is a prey to every passion-but seldom delicacy of taste.' "The greatest incorrectness is frequently connected with genius. Numerous errors spring up in the most fruitful mind. The rich soil which gave birth to the oak, which waves its head in the tempest, also produces weeds and sickly flowers. The slightest impulse is at times sufficient to rouse the full strength of genius. A spark communicated excites the most terrible explosion. The greatest river proceeds from the smallest fountain, rolls its waves over a large extent of country, and heaves its billows with the voice of the ocean." It is supposed that the fall of an apple to the ground directed Newton to the investigation and discovery of the law of gravitation; that the sound of a smith's hammer gave to Pythagoras the first hint of his theory of music; and that a wretched dramatic performance, by an Italian of the name of Adreino, awakened the soul of Milton to the grand conception of Paradise Lost. Genius implies such vast comprehension, such facility in the association of ideas, as enables a person to call

in the conceptions that are recessary to execute the design in which he is engaged. We always discover that great stores of materials have been collected by his fancy, and subjected to his judgment. He darts with rapidity over the fields of his investigation; and by this rapidity his ardour becomes more inflamed. "The velocity of his motion sets him on fire, like a chariot wheel, which is kindled by the quickness of its revolution."

REFLECTIONS OF A CHRISTIAN ON HUMAN LIFE.

HALIBURTON was an eminent minister of the gospel in Scotland: as learned as Voltaire, but a believer, a man of God, a servant of Christ, whose life was spent in seeking the happiness of his fellow creatures. How different his reflections from those of the French unbeliever! He says, "I shall shortly get a very different sight of God from what I have ever had, and shall be made meet to praise him for ever and ever. O, the thoughts of an incarnate Deity are sweet and ravishing! O how I wonder at myself that I do not love him more, and that I do not admire him more! What a wonder that I enjoy such composure under all my bodily pains, and in the view of death itself. What a mercy that, having the use of my reason, I can declare his goodness to my soul. I long for his salvation; I bless his name I have found him, and die rejoicing in him. O blessed be God that I was born! O that I was where he is. I have a father and mother, and ten brothers and sisters in heaven, and I shall be the eleventh. O there is a telling in this providence, and I shall be telling it for ever! If there be such a glory in his conduct towards me now, what will it be to see the Lamb in the midst of the throne? Blessed be God that ever I was born!"

GOD IS LOVE.

ALL his perfections and procedures are but so many modifications of his love. What is his omnipotence, but the arm of his love? What his omniscience, but the medium through which he contemplates the objects of his love? What his wisdom, but the scheme of his love? What are the offers of the gospel, but the invitations of his love? What the threatenings of the law, but the warnings of his love? They are the hoarse voice of his love, saying, Man! do thyself no harm! They are a fence thrown round the pit of perdition, to prevent rash men from rushing into ruin! What was the incarnation of the Saviour, but the richest illustration of his love? What were the many miracles of Christ, but the condescensions of his love? What were the sighs of Christ, but the breath of his love? What were the prayers of Christ, but the pleadings of his love? What were the tears of Christ, but the dewdrops of his love? What is the earth, but the theatre for the display of his love? What is heaven, but the Alps of his mercy, from whose summit his blessings, flowing down in a thousand streams, descend to water and refresh his church situated at its base.--Dr. Waugh.

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