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4. Five-lined stanzas are constructed in various manners, of which one instance must suffice :

Are there not twelve hours in the day?

If a man walk in the day he stumbleth not,
Because he seeth the light of this world;
But if a man walk in the night, he stumbleth,
Because the light is not in him.

(John xi. 9, 10.) 5. The six-lined stanzas "likewise admit of a great variety of structure. Sometimes they consist of a quatrain, with a distich annexed; sometimes of two parallel couplets, with a third pair of parallel lines, so distributed that one occupies the centre, and the other the close; and occasionally of three couplets alternately parallel, the first, third, and fifth lines corresponding with one another; and in like manner the second, fourth, and sixth."*

The following illustrates the first species:

When it is evening ye say "a calm!

"For the sky is red;"

And in the morning," to-day a tempest:

For the sky is red and low'ring;"

Hypocrites! the face of the sky ye know how to discern;
But ye cannot (discern) the signs of the times.

OLD MARY.

"Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern. Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was; and the spirit shall return unto God, who gave it." O! what a rest the grave is! Not that every tolling bell calls for this thought. No; we have seen such bright heads laid low; such bounding steps staid in their course; such blithe voices hushed in the grave, that the first thought has not been this. Rather in its stead how touchingly applicable have those mournful words of the psalmist been: "He brought down my strength in my journey, and shortened my days." We have not lived so many years so close to our church-yard, without learning many a touching lesson of man's mortality. Little Benjamin (the fairest the best beloved), how still he lay in his small coffin, with his fair hair parted on his white forehead; they carried him to his grave on a still autumn evening (for he faded with the bright flowers)-taken to rest almost before he felt weary-taken from loving arms out of a troublesome world. And the husband and father in the prime of life, toiling day by day for a numerous family; we have seen him sicken, and die, O! how suddenly; counting on days to come, but going hence like the shadow that departeth, cut down, dried up, and withered, long before evening." And the young mother, just permitted to press her

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6. Stanzas of more than six parallel lines frequently new-born infant to her bosom, and then taken from

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A few additional instances of the gradational parallelism, and a brief notice of the epanodos, must conclude this article.

Whom the Lord Jesus will waste away with the breath of his mouth,

And will utterly destroy with the brightness of his coming.

To the way of the Gentiles go not off;
And to a city of the Samaritans go not in;
But proceed rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.

The epanodos is similar to the introverted parallelism, and is defined by Dr. Jebb, to be literally "a going back, speaking first to the second of two subjects proposed; or, if the subjects be more than two, resuming them precisely in the inverted order, speaking first to the last, and last to the first."

Give not that which is holy to the dogs;
Neither cast your pearls before the swine;
Lest they trample them under their feet,
And turn about and rend you.

"life and light" to sleep in the grave!

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But I said, "what a rest the grave is!" and truly I may say it to-night. Never, surely, was that solemn service more oppropriate; we did, indeed, "give him hearty thanks" who had so mercifully taken our sister out of the misery of this sinful world." Yes! that shock of corn was fully ripe before it was gathered into the garner. Poor old Mary! Ninetysix summers and winters, want, sickness, sorrow, and (alas! that it should be spoken) neglect, had deeply furrowed that brow and bleached those locks. But it is over. died away on the clear, cold air; the dim light in the The last, last sound of the tolling bell has gloomy belfry is extinguished; the grave-digger's short task is ended; the humble mound is raisedall, all have deserted the cold church-yard, and left it to silence and the dead; O what a rest that grave is to her. And her soul is in heaven! wonderful thought! how faint our conceptions of it. O blessed spirit, what an amazing change you have experienced-released from that worn-out tenement of clay. The crown, the palm-branch, the harp of gold, the ravishing sight of him, whom having not seen you loved-all, all are yours. You have taken possession of your eternal inheritance; you are gone out of a world of trouble, to discover what "God has prepared for them that love him."

From the time I first saw old Mary (I think it must be ten years ago) I became (as she fancied) almost every thing to her. God can make use of very feeble instruments in dispensing blessings to his people. Thanks to his mercy, I was a ray of sunshine in her path, sent her from that Sun of righteousness, who rose to her view with healing in his wings. Very

The sense of the passage appears clearly on thus pleasant, and I hope profitable, were my visits to ner; adjusting the parallelism :

Give not that which is holy to the dogs; Lest they turn about and rend you; Neither cast your pearls before the swine, Lest they trample them under their feet. Garsden, 1840.

⚫ Horne's Introduction, vol. ii. 486, 7. Those who do not possess Lowth's Prælections and Jebb's Sacred Literature, will do well to consult Horne's Chapter on the Poetry of the Hebrews, where will be found much useful information, interspersed with valuable original matter.

for six years there was scarcely a week that we did not meet; I became accustomed to almost any weather, for I could not disappoint the poor old cripple. I was young, and strong, and if a hail-storm came down as I was crossing the bleak hill, I could wrap my plaid closer, and run fast to the bottom; if the sun beat very hot, I was more at a loss, but even then her earnest salutation, the kind tears in her eyes, the fervent "God bless you for coming," made ample amends. "O my friend, (she would say) how I have looked for you; when the sun shines I go out to the step of the door, for I can tell by the shadow on the stone when you will be coming; and, if you are later,

I creep round to the corner of the house, and look to the top of the hill in hopes of seeing you." O could stay away, after hearing that? could I stay away, when, after my visit, (if I lingered a moment in the garden to gather those true cottage-garden flowers, the double-daisy, or purple lavender) I would hear her carnes prayer for a blessing on me, her thanks to the Giver of all good, for any little trifle I had brought her, her hope expressed of meeting me in heaven? May I not fondly hope, that those prayers brought a blessing on my head, for I read that "the prayers of the righteous avail much."

I wish I had a better recollection of my conversations with this aged Christian, but I can truly say I never left her cottage without thanking God for the interview. More than once I was called to her in severe illness, when all about her thought her end was near; her faith and hope at such times were strong, her love to her Saviour great; she would press my hand and say earnestly, "you will look into the old woman's grave, my child, you will see the old woman buried; 1 should like to think you would be standing by when I am carried home." I recollect trying one day to call something to her remembrance which she had forgotten; "my memory gets very bad," she said, "I forget all but Christ my Saviour, and your tender love;" "and O when I get above, how I shall watch at heaven's gate for you." Old Mary was never idle, she had always some work in hand, some patching and contriving to keep herself neat, and when her sight almost failed her, she would still be doing something, cleaning and brightening the cottage furniture, or, sitting at the cottage door in the warm spring time, when the pear and cherry trees were white with blossoms, she would tie up the bright flowers for her daughter to carry to the Bristol

market.

But they took the old woman from me, and from the breezy cottage by the hill side: her children (little heeding the divine command, "Honour thy father and mother") grew weary of her and embraced the offer made by a married son who lived in a low and thickly populated part of a city parish; poor old woman! a few more months at most would have laid her quietly in the grave; how could they have the heart to do it? I followed her there. It was a weary walk, very different to the run through the pleasant corn-fields, and over the green hill. But I knew, that, placed where she now was, she must more than ever need a word of kindness; the sound of my voice (for her eyes were become so dim that she did not know me till I spoke) was too much for her; she wept most touchingly, and seemed fearful of letting go my hand, almost doubting whether I was indeed with her. I repeated to her the hymn which she had been used to request to hear, week after week.

""Tis the same,

the very same," she said, “and 'tis my own friend come back again, the best friend I ever had on earth, but I have one in heaven; but my heart is in the country, my child, 'tis what I have been used to all my days." Poor old woman! it distresses me even now, though it is all over, to think of the sad treatment she met with from her daughter-in-law-one who awfully exhibited the truth of our Saviour's remark, that there were to be found those "who draw near to him with their lips, while their hearts are far from him." Dear old woman, very rough and thorny had been her journey through life; very weary was she with the length of the way; but thank God! she had learnt, like one of old (whose name she bore) to choose that good part which could not be taken from her; she cast her burden upon the Lord, and he sustained it. She meckly and very patiently took up the cross, which her blessed Saviour had borne for her, and was now teaching her how to carry; and the last time I ever saw her she said meekly, "Though I long to go, can wait his time; and I know he won't take

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me till he has made me altogether such as he can approve of." I thought it a beautiful sentence, coming from the lips of one who had long been desirous to close her eyes on this sinful miserable world. Her longing desire after the country continued to the last; "Take me home," she said to the daughter who came "take me in to wait upon her in her last illness, home." Never fear, aged friend; one hears that feeble cry who will answer it ere long: one who has prepared for you a better country, even a heavenly. Yes! you shall go home-not to an earthly cottage, but to the palace of the King of kings. Do you pine for the gentle breezes from the soft river?-you shall have a refreshing sight of that river, "the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God." Do you miss the green hill side?-see, the everlasting hills are higher and greener. O believe it, your prayer is heard-you are going home. And so the aged pilgrim lay down to die; the weary journey of ninety-six years ended. Farewell, aged friend, a warmer heart than yours I shall never meet with on earth. And 66 watching may God grant, that if indeed you are heaven's gate" for me, you may not watch in vain. S. E. January 18.

MYTHOLOGY.-SCHAMANISM.

BY THE REV. HENRY CHRISTMAS, M.A., F.S.A. Author of Universal Mythology.

No. I.

Or all the forms of heathen worship there are none which extend over so vast an extent of country as that which is called Schamanism. Presenting an aspect little varied, among the nations which profess it, it is the dominant religion over nearly all the north of Great Asia, and the islands of the north-eastern sea. antiquity has been claimed for it, and it has been even said that the systems of Brahma, Budha, and the Lama took their rise from corruptions of Schamanism. Without spending much time to investigate an opinion so absurd as this, it may be granted that the religion under consideration has prevailed, to the exclusion of all others, ever since the countries where it is professed have been known. The term schaman is applied to the priests, though the signification of it is a lonely hermit, a man master of his passions, a title to which the schamans have but little claim. They are not distinguished from the laity by any peculiar dress, nor are they bound by any vows; they possess, perhaps, more education, and a greater knowledge of the mysteries of their faith. On the other hand they have no fixed stipend, and are dependent upon the presents they receive from their flock. This state of things is, however, productive of little, if any, inconvenience to the schaman priesthood. They are looked upon as mediators between men and the gods, and alone capable of appeasing the wrath of the latter. Presents of all kinds flow in upon them, and few of the laity are able to live in an equal state of ease and comfort. It must not, however, be denied that there are infidels even among these unsophisticated people who ridicule the pretensions of the priests, treat these persons with contempt, and set their vengeance at defiance. Many of the priests become blind in consequence of the violent exertions and contortions they use in their religious rites; and when this happens the individual is supposed to have attained a still higher degree of sanctity than before. They are not priests for life, but

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are at liberty to lay down their office whenever they | fat in gratitude for good fortune, and load them with please, and any person who chooses assumes it with- abuse if any evil happens. The gods are not the only out question. Although they have no peculiar dress, objects of schaman worship; malevolent deities or they do not fail to assume a great state in their ap-devils are likewise greatly venerated among this suparel and appointments, and at the times of officiating they cover themselves with pieces of metal, and glass, with the stuffed skins of serpents and reptiles, and the feathers of owls, and other sacred birds.

The chief part of the schaman worship consists of ceremonies connected with the mystic drum, which, like that of the Laplanders, is an implement of magic; spirits are supposed to be at the cominand of those, who, in accordance with certain rules, beat it, and the drum itself is adorned with hieroglyphics and idols. The schamans have no temples nor any regular times of religious worship; they perform what ceremonies they think needful, in the open air, usually upon a hill or by the side of a river, and for the most part by night; the worshippers being summoned together by fires kindled for that purpose.

The schamans believe that there is one God, supreme and invisible, he dwells in the loftiest æther, and is too great to trouble himself with the concerns of mortals. At the same time, as he is the great disposer of all events, they consider all the misfortunes which they meet with as so many proofs of carelessness or defect in his providence; hence they not only offer no worship to the Supreme Being, but absolutely deride and insult him. When they do represent him, it is in a Russian uniform, as an officer of dragoons, a condition which they hold as the highest and most mighty upon earth, and they suppose that he has a magnificent court and a fine stud of horses, the thunder is the noise of his coursers' hoofs, and the lightning the sparks that fly from them when they strike against the pavement of heaven. Under this great being, who is called by the Kamtschadales Koutka, are a vast number of deities who rule the world by his permission; but, as they act altogether according to their own will, they are the objects of human worship. All the striking objects of nature find a place in the list of gods, the sun, the moon, rivers, hills, tempests, winds, and rainbows; the chief gods are, however, Tala, the god of health; Axaguin, of hunting; Yelovin, of travellers; Helbon, of women; Moundi, of children; Sokiovo, of rein-deer; Toui, of dogs; Belouta, of thunder, and Irguekin. This last is a singular conception, a piece of skin, eight inches square, cut at the sides in notches, is called Irguekin and represents the assembly of all the gods. Usually the gods are represented by small human figures, wretchedly carved, and for the most part made by the priests; there are, however, some of different shapes: Ghaitou is an idol in the form of a wolf, and composed of different plants tied together; Tschiptipkan is a a small bower of branches filled with birds; Doi is a crucified bird; Tess is a forked stick, on the ends of which are suspended the heads of a fox and a wolf, or two birds carved in wood; Ongo Neguir is a bag filled with images; Imelguilschin is an idol stuck in a small drum. These images, which the better informed consider only as representatives of the gods, are, by the vulgar, supposed to be real deities; to them they offer prayers and gifts, make them their companions in the chase, and smear them with blood and

perstitious people. Of these the chief is called Schaitan, and he is supposed to be the most powerful being in existence next to the Great Supreme himself. They pray to him and believe that by the intercession of the priests he is pacified, and his malevolence towards mankind rendered less active. Under him are legions of subaltern devils, who share the business of mischief among them, and are the immediate causes of all the misfortunes that befal the human race. But, besides gods and devils, they have a vast number of objects of reverence and fear, if not of absolute adoration. Gnomes, fairies, spirits of all kinds, and dwelling in all elements, are firmly believed in among these people; and they have a fairy mythology as extensive, if less poetical than that of Europe. They address a kind of worship to the souls of their departed ancestors, and believe that they frequently appear to the schamans; so also do the gods, but these latter usually assume the figure of a bear, an owl, or a serpent, which animals are, consequently, supposed to be invested with peculiar sanctity. The ceremonies of worship vary among different tribes, but a general resemblance of course prevails; libations of milk and beer, feasting together upon the sacrifices, and preserving the skeletons with care as a sort of idols, offerings to the devil and acts of divination form indispensable parts of schaman worship; the bowl which has been used in the libation is thrown up towards heaven, and if it falls with the bottom on the ground, it is considered a good omen; if otherwise, then the inference is that the gods have rejected the sacrifice, and it must consequently be recommenced. There is one article of schaman belief which deserves notice as being common to it and the Sclavonic mythology-it is that the gods ride by night the consecrated cattle. All the professors of the schaman religion believe in the existence of the soul after death; they entertain a very great fear of ghosts and apparitions, and a no less abhorrence for the dead body: this abhorrence and their dread of apparitions is exhibited in a very strange way at funerals, when, in order to prevent the ghost of the deceased from following them, they surround the body with fire, and jump over sticks, laid at regular intervals. The hut in which any person has died is abandoned, and his name never mentioned again; nay so far do they carry this superstition that all his relations who bore the same appellation immediately change it, and thus it is consigned to oblivion. There is a great difference between the ideas which prevail in the eastern and western parts of Siberia respecting a future life; the former believe it to be much the same in character as the present, but much superior in excellence. In fact a paradise of Cossack sensuality. Those who maintain this doctrine ridicule the Christians and lament the spread of a religion they deem so gloomy. On the other hand, in the west, the future life is supposed to be a purely spiritual and intellectual existence, and as such cannot be considered otherwise than sad and sombre by a people so little enlightened and so thoroughly sensual as are the Siberian tribes.

RECOLLECTIONS OF A TOWN PASTOR.

No. I.

The Church as it was, and is.

Ox entering on a new series of papers, descriptive of events which have occurred during my ministerial life, it may be necessary to premise, that it ought to be designated "Recollections of a Town Pastor," for though my labours have not been, of late years, confined to the metropolis or its suburbs, the circumstances which I mean to record, are chiefly connected with these localities.

vantages of a rural district, yet, from the compactness of its localities, much might be learned of domestic habits, peculiar circumstances, and various opinions.

Now, in carrying my thoughts back to the period referred to, some thirty years ago, I cannot but be struck with the almost inconceivable change wrought during this period, with reference to the state of religion in the established church. I do not mean to cast discredit on those who were then rulers or ministers in our Zion. I do not mean to affirm that formality has disappeared, and unsound views of divine truth are excluded; that there is not a most wanton profanation of the solemnity of the sabbath, amongst all ranks, from the occupants of the splendid equipage in the park, to that of the wretched donkeycart, which crawls along the highway. Profligacy in its most disgusting forms still offends the eye and pollutes the ear in every corner of our streets, but I mean simply that there is an energy, and an activity, and a zeal, and an anxiety in the church, almost unknown at the period referred to, which could hardly have been expected. The young clergyman, who now enters on the faithful discharge of the duties of a metropolitan parish, and finds that every moment of his time is occupied, not simply with matters of a strictly parochial character, would be astonished, were he en

And yet there may be something strange in the appellation of a "Town Pastor." Does not the notion of pastor imply something rural-the village church and church-yard, and the rustic congregation? The minister of Christ is never to forget however, that in whatever circumstances he may be placed, with regard to population, to town or country, he is the pastor of the flock committed to his charge. It is much to be regretted that this is apt to be lost sight of in crowded cities-and especially in the metropolis, where, from a variety of causes, there is often very little intercourse between the minister and his people; not the minister and those who attend his ministration, but between him and those over whom he is placed. The system of the Church of England is a strictly pas-abled to compare the activity now presenting itself, toral system. The land is divided into parishes-in each parish a minister by law is located. If corruptions have crept in, they should be removed. If there is gross neglect on the part of the minister, it should be represented in the proper quarter, where redress may be obtained. Let it be borne in mind, at all events, that, under no circumstances, should there be any alienation of hearts or uncomfortableness of feel-assembled. ing among those who are bound together by the solemn tie of pastor and flock.

A few years after the events revealed at the close of the last series, the vicar of the country market-town, of which I held the curacy, resigned the living from conscientious scruples, for he could not take any share in the duty satisfactory to his own mind. The new vicar came into residence, and I was compelled to leave, which I did with no small reluctance and regret. I had the satisfaction to feel, however, that my duties would devolve on one far more competent than myself faithfully to discharge them, and a subsequent visit to the parish convinced me that the new vicar was eminently qualified for the ministerial office. I may just remark that it is often a very heavy trial for a curate to be removed from the spot in which he labours. How much is that trial increased when he has ground to fear that his plans will not be followed up, that his successor's views are not his own, and that a complete revolution may be the consequence!

Visiting some friends in London, soon after my relinquishing the parish, I was led, at their suggestion, to accept a metropolitan curacy, then vacant; not one of those overwhelming parishes the mere routine duties of which render it almost impossible for a minister to know any thing of the habits of his people, and make him dependent, in a great measure, on the reports of district visitors for information as to individuals; but where, though not affording all the adantages to the minister no less than to the poor of a

with the apparent apathy which then prevailed. The style of preaching has unquestionably improved. The spiritual wants of the population were but then little regarded. The provision of adequate church accomdation was never thought of; while even in the churches, in too many instances, as is at present not unfrequently the case, a very small congregation

The minister advancing in years, who walks through the metropolis or its suburbs, and witnesses the number of new churches erecting and erected, may well thank God and take courage, when he reflects that in the then enormous parish of St. Pancras, but one small village church was the provision for the inhabitants for parochial worship, and that, in this and other neighbouring parishes, there was even a jealousy of permitting new churches to be erected, lest vested rights might be infringed; he cannot but be grateful for the new towers which, on all sides, present themselves to his notice. The same may be said with respect to the scriptural education of the young, to the imparting of religious knowledge among all classes and all ages, to the zeal testified for missionary labours; a zeal not indeed by any means commensurate to the wants of the heathen, or our own responsibilities, still, a growing zeal. For the truth of these remarks, I confidently appeal to any clergyman who has resided for the last thirty years in the metropolis. His scene of labour may be the same, but is the spiritual atmosphere around him the same? Whatever

well-organized and regulated visiting society, in a parish, are incalculable. By well-organized and regulated, I mean where all is done under ministerial superintendence.

* Whilst all due protection should be given to such rights, it is questionable how far a too great stickling for them has not opposed a serious barrier to the wider extension of church accommodation. There is good ground to believe that many pious and wealthy churchmen would have liberally built and endowed churches had they not been deterred by difficulties thrown in the way.

CHURCH OF ENGLAND MAGAZINE.

our church, are grieved, and mourn for the perverseness of their brethren-brethren on one ground onlythat of non-conformity, but not brethren in heart, in mind, or in spirit. I know that many dissenting ministers in the metropolis (and doubtless hundreds elsewhere) are overwhelmed with shame at the aspect of their community.

The times in which we live are indeed momentous. The church has many enemies, but my "recollection" If we have charbrings to mind a period not less so. tists and socialists now, we had nearly the same under different names, and assuming different aspects, in other days. It was the saying of a holy, pious churchman, "he would rather sink with the church than float with dissent." I think we need not fear

may be his own views, he must acknowledge that the position of the church is very different now from what it then was. That which is now regarded, and justly so, as every man's duty, would then have been looked upon with suspicion, as savouring of a leaning towards dissent, for the too general maxim wasthings do very well as they are, it is dangerous to innovate. I am no advocate for thoughtless innovations, but surely that was requisite which sought to substitute energy for apathy? And how much cause have we, then, for gratitude, that a better spirit manifests itself. Never, perhaps did the church of England stand higher than she does at this present moment, in spiritual efficiency, and in the affections of the people. If she was asleep, she has arisen refreshed from her slumber. We cannot take up a newspaper, town or country, in which we do not find the holding of public meetings, the formation of associations, for furthering the interests of religion at home or abroad. There was nothing of this when I undertook my cure in the metropolis. Compare the reports of the great religious societies, with those of the same institutions at that period. Contributions in some cases are increased almost twenty-fold. Consider the numerous societies formed since that time. Vastly different, indeed, was the state of things thirty years ago. Scarcely any of the laity seemed to think they were responsible for the spiritual welfare of others. It was very rarely indeed that, in society, the subjects now so frequently dis-lands, and though the men of the present genera

cussed were ever entered upon.

And if the position of the church is different, so also is the position of dissent. At the time referred to, dissenters appeared, generally speaking, to act strictly from conscientious motives. Frequent friendly intercourse led me to this conviction-intercourse in the country as well as in town. Many dissented from family connexions. Many had gradually become dissenters from the impossibility of procuring accommodation at church, or from a deficiency, as they conceived, in the character of the ministration. Some, indeed, opposed the church, not because she was episcopal or established, but simply because they wished to root out religion from the land, as the sure way of introducing anarchy and confusion, and overturn the government. Popery was then at work doubtless, but it was stealthily. It stalked not in our high places. It was not courted and patronized. Would conscientious dissenters of that day have joined a noisy rabble to oppose a church-rate, or harangued on a platform against church extension? Would they have upheld a system of education not based on the word of God? Verily, no. I have had dissenters in the parish, but they lived with the clergy on the most amicable terms. No squabbling at vestry meetings. They held their property subject to church-rate, and like honest men they paid it. Their consciences, it would appear, were less tender than those of their successors.

having our allegiance put to the test-ours is no sinking cause. Sure I am of this, the church of England was never, at any period of her history, better qualified than she now is, to repel the attacks of her enemies; and by the blessing of God, I firmly believe that no weapon formed against her shall be permitted to prosper.

For although these remarks apply chiefly to the metropolis, they must not be confined to it. They hold true with respect to the country at large. From the Land's end to Berwick, there is a simultaneous movement in every diocese, in fact a revival-a revival likely to be more lasting and beneficial in its effects, than those of which we hear so much in other

tion may

see comparatively little fruits from what is now doing at home and abroad, successive generations may have cause to bless the names of those who are devoting themselves to their country's truest interests, by extending the influence of that church through the goodness of God established amongst us.

HOME.

How many delightful ideas and sensations are connected with the sound of that one little word, "Home." How many pleasing associations are constantly brought to our recollection by the magnet of that single word, and how many pictures does it bring to our mind's eye of comfort and enjoyment.

When that simple word "home" is sounded in winter, it is always in my mind associated with the idea of a cheerful blazing fire, when all the members of the family who have the happiness of being together, draw their chairs round the friendly hearth, with a long winter's night in prospect, plenty of books to store the mind, cheerful conversation to beguile the time, and perhaps the evening may be enlivened by a little music. Then the wind may howl as it lists, the snow may fall, or the rain patter against the wellclosed windows; it only induces us to stir once more the brightened flame, to draw our chairs a little closer to the welcome blaze, and the feeling of home-comfort is inwardly acknowledged, if not outwardly expressed

Had a by every heart.

church been proposed to be erected for a destitute population, I could have counted on many a heavy donation from dissenters. Were a parochial school to to be set on foot, a yearly subscription might be depended upon. But these things are recollections." How different the aspect of dissent in general now! I say, in general, for firmly do I believe, for full well do I know, that many, who conscientiously dissent from

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Spring, too, has its remembered charms. The early flowers, the bright green leaves, the daisied grass, the clear blue sky; all remind us of the days when we were young-days when we first learnt to lisp our daily prayer, and raise our infant hearts to bless and praise that God who formed the world. The memory of much-loved parents is rendered sacred by these early recollections of" home;" and the spring time of life, with all its fresh young feelings just budding forth, is perhaps the brightest and fairest portion of

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