Georgia Christian repertory. (Macon, Ga.) 1831-18??, September 12, 1832, Page 126, Image 2

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

126 hi!* viewsare not clour a"d ins virtuous feeling not irrefutable, ‘l'ho capacity foe enjoymti or kufiering, which constitutes a part ot our tia fure,’ necessarily produces a desire to be happ and to avoid misery. To tins desire the doc trine of rewards and punishments is addressee and when God contiru.s his precepts by swell function, be therefore tines no more than to ad npt Ins treatment of us to the he lias giien to us. If (Inivers.dists allege that they dfJßffh' e J ec ' : tb-j doctrine of rewards mid but only limit die continuance of the S ; }<> the present state of being ; we think I, QP" c,ent to leply thnt such u limitation destroys it, or, to .., t y the b ust, renders it so ambiguous, that no out- can Im Cei tnu whether it huve any exist ence or be worthy of notice. OH, (: i sJT I N!)".SEIsECTBP. lor the Repertory. ‘n r . P’rxtroit : In your paper of the nth inst. j u. writer, who My led hims* If /•'< imd cJi'.i Friend, expressing Ins surprise that nr V should be found in this day “ who s'ln i .4Yp--r.lv, or .iHtisnely, defend the doe tri . -..-it ,tn iii.ioraiit mid illiterate ministry is lnurv fitiV, ami equally useful, with one improv ed ;‘>y irtrn.ng and good sense.” This he gives us t .• niiderstond, is the doctrine of a writer who sty is iitmsflf -1 Methodist. The same tnis'iis c had hren fallen into, (or rather n worse cm) some tipie since, by his Friend Enoch, who found it vety convenient to take this vietv ol the doctrine, in order to evade the force of my argat*.- ot*. and s.n - himself the trouble of giv j,;” a candid unsophisticated reply. In the outset of ii*v former remarks 1 stilted, l dc- F)ro distinctly to be understood, that l do not oppose learning in a minister, or any one else ; lam well pleased with all this— o3 Voppose because l contended tint wo should act consist ent with oitr principles as a church, that it GoiJ jna-1-’ choice of an unlearned mail, instead of r'otainii:*’ him trnm the work to winch lie is called, to qualify him, scud him out, exhorting him to “ study to show himself approved unto Uod,” At". lam charged with contending for an ignorant ministry. If the Almighty want ed nil learned men for (he ministry', he could call all of this dr-scriptinn, far *c have a plenty out of which the section could he made. It he chose to make it- Why then, I would nsk, m the name of common srnsn, data he nma choice of illiterate men at all? l.e <m,.s souio learned, whv not call nil 1 I did give the Apos* tics yens before, and w ill give them njrainiiinre fullv, for they express exactly v hat 1 contend for’ 1 Cori ch. “not many wise men after tae not inativ nnghtv, not many noble, are on’ih-d, hut find hath chosen the foolish things of liie world to confrjuml the wise ; nnrl God hath chosen the weak things ot the world to confound the .nighty, and base tiling ol Urn world, and tilings which are despised, hath God chisel!, vea ami things which are not, to bring to nonglit tilings that, arc” and tel is us tnc rea- L, of this seemingly strange course m the m vpr economy, that mi fltsh should glory m his prWrice. - How any man that holds the pmic:- pb-.s ofo-ir eliur. !i, can read this passage, mu. pi,., sa - it is God's i rerogat’.vi to euii and our. duty\n qualify, is perfectly mineeomitahle tr me. This tc <t contains all I contend for fin I-!., R.|iy—To 1 . r.’s. Friend, 1 now /tale, tint the n\nioover which 1 write, was not i/itei d ,-il to rt f. -Vi t-i my opponent, but simp!/ to ex press whai 1 - tithe, A Methodist. Also. II is true 1 fi*H rr. .Imposition to pridong the controversy, hiit 1 can assure you 1 did not ih c.llne replying to your friend, I,cause l thought his nrcutnent ivcigetv, or lits evasions too subtle t 0 |,e Intevtcu, hut far reason* assigned. —Aon ,s,’er.i to attach too much importance to my re s-arks which 1 neither dewed wor expected. A .METHODIST. njarus 1 11ui• i iiuuuui • -m- ■ A .METHODIST. TO PIOUS dealers IN ARDENT SPIRITS. “Ivmc vo.t will pinion me for saying,J rc aJ, *t Iho prospect of the speedy non. iuHiou of (mr fraternity. I rejoice that have \iot nov tie-, honor of addressing, as formerly, a ili nie.-,i,s und respectable body of Christians, oat merely a small remnant of an expiring race. Aft having said tiiis, I feel bound to give yon this reasons of tiiis joy, tint you may see I do iiot dehjrht in your misery for its own sake, Well Ami I rejoice,—- 1. Krause ft. of ardent spirit tends toj A J WI the health and lives of men : >*> j “’ l ; --l thousands to an untimely giaw,. netuMl con9, *‘‘ tV .vmtf I •2. Because the use ot spirits tends to no . ti.nc nnc. money, netr'.eet ot Dism - health, *,*l shortens the period of providing to. the subsis ence of a family. ln j.unlrn th 3“S.rth*t u'serfVpint* ten is to harden sst^-^Ss®: wives'and’ and to increase the manlier Af ..aor widows tnd orphans* , , 1 bJSJm the use of spirits . t™*"\ 4 ; r lit,oat CO, fighting, blasphemy, and murder,and send, thousands into ete.-mty... the midst of their sins* the benefit ■” sßlk‘aSt5 B lk‘ aSt drives children of the benefit < Lr m ,, n l and religious education, and the in ,r li ,n,iv in the world to come. 6 Been .se the use of ardent spirits counter wU the Spirit of God in his work of reffcncra tine, sanctifying, and saving the souls ol met/, and thus prevents the salvation of many immir ‘"V'o'cSase every dealer in ardent spirits con tributes his share to all tl.ese evils, -beca.se he aids in dwtroyingtbe reputation, and heat I, knd fives Os his fellow reducing them tp poverty, in ftindi ag^hoface of the poor? in GEORGIA CLIRtSTIAN RKyfcRTOItV—PETOTEP TO RELIGIOUS, robbing wives and children ofgheir husband uid fathers, society of its useful members, Christ of the reward of his sufferings, God oi his glory, and heaven of its inhabitants. 8? Because in continuing to sell ahlent spir its, you destroy your own peace of mind, and deprive yourselves of the consolations Hint en joyments of religion. It is impossible lor any mill now to shut his eyes against the conse quences of this truffle, without closing them a. the same time against the light on nil olher ( subjects. lie cannot read a journal, whether religious, literary, political, agricultural, of commercial, without meeting with cosciencs striking facts and awful warnings on this sub jeot. He cannot hear a sermon, or an exhorta tion, or a prayer, or social conversation, with out feeling that lie is in imminent danger or listening to remarks or allusions deiogatoiy to his vocation. He cannot attend a chuich meet ing without seeing that, contrary to the apos tolic exhortation, lie gives offence to the Church of God. Every paragraph that meets his eye or Ins ear respecting that awful pestilence that is abroad in the earth, shows him that lie is help li, °- to pr. jxire the wav tor its deslrue.iv e march through our land. 1). He cannot pray for the blessing of God upon his business ; because that would be ask ing God to aid him in destroying the bodies and souls ot men,- —the appropriate work of the devil. 10. I!c cannot embark with the people of God in any holy or benevolent enterprise. Were he to engage with zeal in uny good wort.,’ the inconsistency of his character would sta o him in the face, and call foith from all aro'intl him the severe rebuke, “ Physician heal thy <Sclf.” The continual violation of known vbli gntiofis to refrain fr/m evil, closes the heart against all desires /> do good; and a disregard of the miseries produced hv one’s own conduct, renders him insensible to distresses arising from other causes, if*’ has no heart therefore to sympathise with those who are perishing i* their sins, and ev en if he had, every effort to hold forth the word of hie to those around linn, would only condemn his own immortal tradic, nnd give the ,-eeniy occasion to blaspheme -11. Evorv vender of ardent spirits who is a professor of reliirion, is not only a useless mem ber of the Clnirclif hut is a dead weight hang ing to it, impeding its progress in accotoplish fbg iho great design of its institution, which is I lie reformation and salvation of a sinful and dying world. .. Now, gentlemen, those lire some of the rea sons tvhv i r< juice in the rapid decline of your frateaift'v. And they lire so many reasons, so lemn and important as the interests of eternity, why you sln.-i/ii quit this unholy traffic without ddav. V. hr/ reasons can you assign for eon tinning thusflo make merchandise of the bodies am| souls of men? None in the world, except the pr ciuiipy profits of this merchandize 1 But what is a man profited if he gain the whole world and loseitisown soul, or ho instrumental in dcstrifving the souls of others? And is it possible that a professor of religion, with a Bi ble in his house, has never seen or heard oflhe Divine command, to seel; first the Kingdom of fluid and his righteousness, —and that the love of money is the root of nil evil; and docs lie not see that, in loving it more than the glory of God, lie i.- as really an idclatar us if he bowed down, ill this Chustian land, and worshiped <i graven image ? Hut suppose that money is the one thing ive.ifel; and how does a Ghi'istian expect to obtain or enjoy it, without the blessing ol God? and how can lie expect that blessing on ail em ployment which tends to ruin the temporal and eternal interests of men? He dares not even prey for God’s blessings on the sale of anient spirits.— Cvn. Ohs. From the Sunday-School Journal. SUNDAY-SCHOOL THEOLOGY. Proper.—- AVc hear too little of prayer ns a privilege, and when urged exclusively as a pos itive duty, it wants that recommendation to the feelings of affection and love with which it ought to he invested. From its very nature, indeed it should he regarded in this light, ‘ljd: fust inquiry of the mind, when made scnstMe oi the holiness of the divine attributes, and the vile ncss of the human character, wonj/sceui to he, “Am 1 indeed permitted to lift my voice in supplication to the holy Sovemgn °l l^e lln '” verse? Mav 1, a guilty rebel, (lure to suggest Unv wants to Him whose authority I have ilespi pt’,n Ami will lie condescend to listen to a ‘njtitiou for mercy from ho, instead of liav- Ijn.r any claim on His compassion, has outraged ~|f iv is past goodness and forbearance . \> e should suppose this/to he the strain of the con victed sinner’s tlitughls, and that he would not ff .vk for commnids and injunctions to force him to u positive duty Ills doubt will bo—not must l—hut mar I come. must i— nut We need not snv that such is preeminently the feeling ofjtlc Christian in approaching his God. His I liar l sympathises with the affec tionate encoprugeniciit of the apostle, when cnnte.npkti.t2 the way opened through the priesthood ofthfi Saviour, he invites Ins people, “ Let ns draw/I. ear with a true heart, in full as surance of )Mtli; let us come boldly to the tlrsi.e of j price.” lurone. in I As it is/bf importance that every heart should i continue sensible, that for answers to prayer we ure dependent on the soverc ; gn grace of God through the intercession of tile Mediator, and not on the worth of our petition*, so wcshall find it the most effectual way of urging the sin ner to pray, to show him the absolute need of of his taking this step before he can expect any regard front the divine mercy. All the eneour jUremonl to supplication should be set before turn, along with the truth* that i,Js his own interest that is involved iu the iswte, and that tlie glory of the Divirc Being is independent ot his creatures; that prayer is ns atonement for .sin; that there is nothing mentorious in asking for salvation; and that God will only regard it i sp far as it is the evidence of a sincere desire to i rttunj to Him with faith and pemfcnccr We cannot too soon inoulento this sense ol the noed of prayer. To affect it we must not allow children to obtain the idea that their morning and evening devotions are magic sen tences, tic utterance of w hich is their safe guard from harm. Let a parent begin by con lincirtj; this child of his inability to protect and guarajiitn fjmm the clangers to which he is most expofltet! ? that lie cannot give him sleep, or ap petite-, Or. happiues?. Let bini exemplify and illustmte this fact night and morning, until the child set la thnt he must look to a higher pro tector aiuf preserver. Thus Jet him he taught to ask tint divine guardianship with the real impression that God alone can take care of Jiim. On such an impression it will he more easy to engraft tljc persuasion, that to the satiic source • he must Inogi’or the forgiveness ofhis sins and 1 the purification of liis heart. lie will he led - to realize Ws constant dependence on his hear- > enly Fatl/r, and, through his blessing, will grow * up with this conviction continually strengthen ing in liAs hcait. Prayer will he a meaning, a svveer, Vn indispensable privilege to such n heart. A\ f/ero this care is not taken to instruct the child; or other beginner in prayer, in the nature ‘ and/objeet of the service, and where it is en- 1 joined without reference to its connexion with ‘ the blessings sought, prayer will he likely to he 1 irksome,or to he regarded as meritorious. Ou 1 the other hand, let it be spoken of and recifti mended as the saints have ever spoken of it, ;5 • a prtcious privilege, and the means ofcoinniun uig with God, mid obtaining his blessing, and 1 there will he a deeper sense of the need of ‘ prayer, a more winning encouragement to its ‘ exercise, and growing joy and admiration at the 1 condescention wrhich permits man to address ‘ Ids Maker, and provides a divine Mediator and 1 Intercessor to present his supplications witliac- 1 ccptance. Then will the heart respond to the I exhortation of David: “O come, let us worship ’ and how down : let us kneel hi fore the Lord, our maker, fob jwjis otn now.’’ ( */ j Trorn IbeVAm. I’aftors Journal. 1 I Lff ASSURANCE. Is it not the privilege of Christians to arrive ‘ at such clear grin convincing proof <sf their ud- i option, as to yehiovu all doubt 1 Has not the Holy spirit delineated i d*® Sovijitinv's the i traits of character, and the particular feelings ol the Christian, with so much exactness that the child of God need not mistake? lain uware 1 that many Christians spend most ol thei • lives without “ u strong conclusion,” though they “’have fled for rd'iigo, to lay hold upon tlm hope set before them.” They seem to lake lor grant ed thnt they must necessarily remain “all their life time subject to bondage, through fear.’ Hut such were not the views and feelings of the the ancient saints. David, and Job, and Hoz ekiah, ami Paul, spake with the greatest confi dence of the integrity of their full assurance that God was their reconciled Father, and ever lasting portion ; and that this assurance was the privilege, not only of inspired men, hut ol the saints generally, is evident front the fact, that they tire exhorted to “ give diligence, to make their calling and election sure,”—“ to know themselves,” —“to he not deceived,” &c., and also, from the confident expressions which Christians are permitted to use ; “VA c know that we have passed from death unto lift** “V. o know that we arc of truth.”—A', c know that ue (God) ahidetli in us.” &c. This con tinence or assurance of Christmas, is not a mere impression made on the mind, they know not I how or why : but it arises from a comparison jof their own exercises with the declarations oi Cod in his word. My attention has been turned to tins subject recently more than common, in consequence oi a visit I made a few day’s siuce, to a ehauibei of disease. There I saw and heard what was to mo profitable, humbling and eddying. There was a mother in Israel, pining away mi ller tlm withering hand of consumption. Hut while sickness and pain were rapidly demolish ing the earthly,tabernacle, her soul seemed to gaze upward* to tko “building of God, the house not made with hands eternal in the hea vens, ’’ and to “desire to port, and be with Christ.,” as though she considered “tar het ter,” than to abide longer in the flosli. After I had made some remarks of a consolatory tin- ( tore, and recited some of the i/omises of God < to his pcdple, under afflictions,her countenance • beamed with joy, and told thoGioly emotions of her soul. It was with extreme difficulty she could articulate and then oily in a whisper. < Taking niv hand, and drawing it close to her i lips, she said, in substanco is follows : ‘ . I .. i\ . I 1 “I am happy- 1 now etjoy a full nssitranco ‘ of hope. Formerly, I waainuch troubled with I doubts and fears. I used Jo say, ‘Lord, I be- ( lieve, help /hou mine unjeliefbut still my < unbelief continued, and rt>’ apprehensions re- I specting myself were somjume awfully distress- 1 ing. After I was taken tnpre tinwell, and was . apprehensive that 1 should not recover, I felt ; that 1 could not bear to die without the assu- . ranee of hope. I caked upon God day and night, tlial ho would luivc mercy on me. 1 1 pleaded Ins promises; ‘ l niWer will leave thee ‘ no- forsake theeMijm tlikt cometli to me, 1 will in no wise cast out;’ 4 ftnr not for I have redeemed thee; I have called thee by thy name: tliou art mine. When thou passest through the waters, I will he with thee: and through the rivers they shall not overflow thee. When thon .. i .1. _ *1 „l. n U 1.. rnoia uivj - walkest through the lire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindlo upoh thee. For 1 am the Lord thy God, the holy on A of Israel, thy Saviour.’ 1 felt unworthy of God’sJ mercies. I saw that I was a guilty, hell-deserv ing sinner. My soul was weighed down with the heavy loud of my sins. But 1 cried the more earnestly to the Lord tofdit'lp, i‘Lonl, save me—l perish.’ I felt thnt 1 cookl not be denied. I said, 4 Lord 1 cannot let thee §P ex cept thou bless me.’ 1 clung fast RrrtJse mercy seat and pleaded and pleuded for deliverance. My doubts and fears fled. It was at\he foot i of the cross that my burden left me. I’ saw that there was n infinite fountain of the blood , of Christ, where the greatest sinners might be purified from all thdr defilement and gerflG* I could no longer doubt his love to me and hit interest in him. I told her that I was glad to see her in this happy state of mind. She then inquired re spefcting my feelings, whether l had, the assu rance of hope. On learning that I was not ve ry confident respecting the safety of tny state, she asked again, *‘AA hat do you mean to do?” She was told that I designed to he more faith ful, and give more diligence, to make my call ing and election sure. “Do,” said she, “do.” I took my seat near the bed, and spent a few moments in silent meditation. O, thought I, this dear saint occupies a station which might, -well he envied by the “great ones” of this world. A station, nearer to (hat of angels than uny other this side of heaven. How would mi nisters preach, and how would Christians live, and what an impression would the world get of j the value of religion if all the people of God : came up to this privilege. From the roitmitnrn of a Christian Gentleman. SUNDAY OF A CHRISTIAN GENTLEMAN. The Christian gentleman does nothing for display, nothing with affection; and yet he car ries to all things a sort of sacred tact, and an unconscious propriety of behavior. His walk into church und his walk out of it, are like his walk in lifo, decorous, simple, and sedate. Full of the honesty of real meaning, Lis car fringe comports with his situation and object; j lie neither courts nor shuns observation; he has i a direct and professed purpose in going to church, and to that he addresses himself, with- | out regard to the eye or comment of man; it | is his commerce, with eternity, his earnest ne gotiation with his God; his heart ism it; there is nothing foreign* to it in his look or innnucr; neither gcsttilations, nor salutations, nor w his perings, nor greeting, divide his attention — nothing disturbs the polarity of his mind. On leaving the house of prayer he w alks fjmctly and uncovered, till he Cease to tread oil holy ground. While others are impatient to resuinb their worldly topics his thoughts still linger within the sanctuary; while others arc employ ed in remarks on the preacher, or his sermon, he tacitly esainincs and criticises hiiusell; while others fall hack within the world’s en closures, he continues his pilgrimage onward, with iho land of rest before him ; while ths? loose devotion of others drops from them at the church porch, his habitual religion takes faster hold upon him, with every renewed exposure; its analogies follow him into life and society; his soul, which lias dressed itself before the mirror of tile Gospel, still wears its w Kite inves titure, attracting the homage of gentle spirits, and forbidding the touch of unhallowed com munication. The heart of n Christian gentleman is in a tender state when lie conics new from the house of (hid ; a tenderness which becomes soreness whou he contemplates the state of things around him. Scarcely lias he come into the open air, when the sound of wheels, and silly talk, and insane laughter, assails Ins ears; scarcely is he out of the hearing of God’s awful dealings with his creatures, the records of his might, the mysteries of his grace,nd the visitations of his wrath; hardly has the organ censed, or ihc churchyard been crossed, when a world hursts upon him, wherein an open indifference to all these things prevails; wherein the Sabbath is employed, us if the Lord's brief term in it had run out, and the inheritance, with n full right of disposition, had reverted to man, to devote it as interest, or humor may suggest —to traffic, toil, or diversion ; to the office, the counter, or the festive hoard; to gossipping visits ; to the gathering and propagation of uows; or to the fluttering tumults of parks and promenades. From such unlovely scenes, the Christian gentleman is glad to escape into the bosom of his family ; happy if thn domestic scenes pre sent a contrast to whutlie has witnessed abroad. Anil it in genera! must so do; for the wise ex ample and admonitions of a parent have our better nature on their side; nnd, what is better still, the earnest of that new nature, which is the great conqueror of the will, and the reclai mer of our wild humanity. Tho ways of God are unsearchable. A Christian is not always allowed to see the con summation of his pious wishes in respect to his children’s dispositions and principles; such a case, however, is un anomaly in life, and a mystery i/i the divine administration. A stub born heart is sometimes made more stubborn by caresses, nnd is in a manner congealed in the temperature of a father’s embrace, or a mother’s bosom; bnt it is the ordinary course'of Provi dence to bless the endeavors of a Christian in his purential rule. When such is the constitu tion of a family, tho Christian father has tran rpnllity about his heart, which clieors him in the midst of a misjudging world. It is his dc lighton the evening of the Lord's day, to draw the curtain between the scene of home, and the great theatre of Sabbath profanation ; to read and meditate upon the Scriptures of truth; to vindicate within the circle of his children and dependants, Jehovah’s claim to the total Sun day ; to make it a day of deep interior delight; nnd to give it a refuge from the storm without, ui the reiiiomcnt of his peaceful domicil. WHAT IS RELIGION ? True Religion, one has vevy happily observ ed, is that which makes a good man, —which renders one pious towards his God, conformed to the pattern of his Saviour, benevolent to his follow men, humble in his temper and man rrehs, pcuceable in his society, just in Ins treat ment to till, strict in government of himself, pa tient in adversity, and attentive to his duty in all conditions and relations of life. When you saa such a character, yon may believe that reli gtwi is there. Reader, when you find tliis to be ’ ouf character, you may believe that wisdom hag jemercd into your heart. If you.see a man meek, humble, peaceful, soher and benevolent, careful to practice piety t. Vimself, and promote it among others, you may #foly think him religious, tliougli you suppose ! him to have adopted some groundless •pinions. l If yea see one contentious abotrt rcligicrn* ‘con- iletnning all wflh. toHk*not as he does, mor zealous to make pKsejytes and opinion, than to make gqodj’meii out ofhis proselytes, whatereryou may think of his heart, vou- will at least conclude that his zeal is not according to jutfgmeut. * ‘ Judge then of the truth, and the importance of doctrines, by their practical tendency, and observable effects. For as the design mid tc>- ’ deucy ot* the gospel is tp make men better, so, \if any doctrine bus a-contrary influence, yon may conclude either that it is not a doctrine ot the* gospel, or that it meets with a temper ceedingly perverse. —-AT. E. Herald. IRISH MISSIONS—MISSIONARY NOTICE. 3 Interesting Experience. Among the many interesting experiences that we heard on that occasion, M. C. (formerly Ia Roman Catholic) stood up and said, “ Here I stand, who have been taught to sny my prayers on beads, and go to mass, which I attended un til I was upward of twenty years of ngc, when I happened to hear a Wesleyan missionary preach, and felt that I was n sinner. I then heard regularly when 1 couid, these men ot God ; at length my father told me that I must hear them no more, or'else'.leave his house. 1 asked him, Why lie said so?’ Was I not a better son than when 1 was cursing, , and drinking? (which he knew I was guilty ot be- I fore 1 heard the Methodists) and why should ho j now send me away ? He said that the priest ! told him, that nothing would do well with him, I if he would allow me to stay in his house nud hear the swaddlcrs;? that, therefore, I must j hour them no more, or else leavo him forever.- This I refused to do, and immediately packed up my clothes, und said, ‘Father, the Lord is a rich provider; 1 will trust in him.’ 1 kneeled down and him and his, and bade him farewell, with the tears rolling down my checks: and now I can say, to the glory of God, that he is indeed a rich provider; he has given me a partner that fears and loves him ; and though I had not one shilling when I left my father’s* house, I have now abundance of this world’s goods, the privilege of lodging a missionary, and a largo class at my house. But tlje best of all is, the power and presence of Christ ia my heart. O how thankful ought I to he, that 1 have escaped out of darkness, superstition, and idolatry 1” TO THE YOUNG CONVERT. Remember two things; first, that ‘ life is ne ver given for its own sake, hut for its uses. Your spiritual lifo is given to you* that you may “live to God ;” you are to walk in his ways, to hunger and thirst after his righteousness, and to delight in lus service. Then secondly, re member that your Christian life is in ‘a very feeble state.’—lf indeed you are truly convert ed, you truly live ; but your life at present is i the life of and childhood.—Your ; knowledge is small, your faith weak, and your , charity hmitc.d Consider then, that you require i to he rooted and grounded in the truth; that . you are to grow in knowledge and in grace; i and that you are to give all diligence, to add : to your fust li virtue, and to virtue knowledge, i and to knowledge temperance, and to temper ance patience, and to patience godliness, and * to godliness charity-” Conversion is not the 1 end of your course, hut its beginning. It istlio i strait gate, opening on the narrow way; and ! all that way you must tread if you would arrive t in heuven ! Lon. Even. Man. O S ALNESS. There is n mysterious feeling that frequently passes like- a cloud over the spitit. It conics on the soul in ttie busy hustle of life, jn the so cial the calm and silont retreats of sol itude.— Its. powers ore alike supreme over the weak and iron-hearted. At one time it iscaused by tho flitting of a single thought across tho mind. Again, u sound will come booming across the ocean of memory, gloomy and solemn as the death knell, overshadowing all the bright hopes and sunny feelings of the heart. Who can describe it, and yet who has not felt its withering influence? It is a delicious sort of sorrow ; and like a cloud dimming the sun shine of the river, although causing a moment ary shade of gloom, it enhances the beauty cjf returning brightness. Enthusiasm nnd Superstition.— Enthusiasm is an evil much less to he dreaded tlmn super stition. Ihc latter is a disease of opinion, winch may he transmitted with fresh accumu lation of error from age to age.—lt j s the spirit of slumber in which whole nations are iminef<- . facing religion, which is most foreign to its nature m depending for acceptance with End on absurd penances or unmeaning cere monies, it resigns the understanding to igno rarice and the heart to insensibility. No gene, reus sentiment, no active virtues ever issucYrom superstition. Superstition is the disease of nations; enthu siasm that of individuals. The former grows more inveterate by time; the latter is cured by if Power- of Eloquence. —The accomplished scepttc, Chesterfield, was present when Whit field, presented the votary oft sin under the figure of a blind beggar, led by a little dog.— I lie dog had broken the string The blind cripple, with h.s stall, it dropped down the de scent too deep to send hack an echo. Ho ougltt u on the ground, and bending forward, took one careful step to recover it. But he trod Ml V S Cy ""?? ed f r r , a ,nonii;nt —and as he fell headlong, Chesterfield sprang from his seat exclaiming, “By heavens, he is gonel’f Os all the enemieTof idleness, want is tire most formidable. Fame soon found to be a sound, and love a dream avarice and ambition may be justly suspected ofbeing privy confede rates w.th idleness; for when they Vave fora win e protected their votaries, thc/often deliv r°ar. th,ir ,ives *4 *>£!„. w want 1. erselfls * oftcif o veroome; * and very 1