What are ten thousand worlds compared to Thee? Is but an atom in the balance weighed. Naught! but the affluency of thy light divine, I am, Oh God! and surely thou must be ! Thou art! directing, guiding all, Thou art! Close to the realms where angels have their birth, The chain of being is complete in me; In me is matter's last gradation lost, And the next step is spirit-Deity! I can command the lightning, and am dust! A monarch, and a slave; a worm, a God! Whence came I here, and how? so marvellously Constructed and conceived? unknown? This clod Creator! Yes! Thy wisdom and Thy word O thought ineffable! O vision blest! MY FRIEND'S FAMILY. BY REV. L. L. HAMLINE. " EDWARD," said I to my much loved friend, who had been my class-mate, and only room-mate for many months, one day as we were about closing our scene of studious toil, "Edward, give me a sketch of some of the most important incidents of your past life; and, if desired, I will return the favor. We are now about to separate for distant sections of the country, and should the strong bond of friendship and Christian affection, which has so long and firmly cemented us together, continue unbroken, it will be pleasant, in after-time, for each to refer to any interesting events connected with the other." For a few seconds, during which time Edward's mind probably scanned the whole history of his past life, he sat silent and motionless, with his eyes fast fixed upon our faithful, though rusty stove, which we had already commenced removing from our apartment. Then raising his head, said he, "My own history is quite unimportant. The incidents of but one period of my life are worth relating, and you have so frequently heard me refer to them, that I am sure the subject must have become to you an old tale.' I refer," continued he, "to the period of my conversion, and the remarkable conversion of my father, mother, and only sister-incidents, the result of which, I trust, will be the union of our domestic circle, unbroken, in the paradise of God." "Such events," I replied, " may well assume a vast importance. They extend beyond the narrow bounds of visual objects; and, indeed, can only be measured by the countless revolving cycles of eternity. True, I have heard you refer to the conversion of yourself and parents, but have never heard you give the particulars; a relation of which would fully meet the object of my suggestion." Edward, in compliance with my request, proceeded nearly as follows (for I design to give his own language as near as memory will enable me). "My father, you know, was a man of wealth, and high standing in his profession. My sister and myself were the only children; and on us, from infancy, was lavished everything to gratify us that immense wealth and boundless parental affection could supply. We were, indeed, the idols of our paGreat expense was incurred to qualify us early in life to act well our parts in the highest circles of society. Our education, however, was entirely of a light character; calculated only for show. My father was a bitter opponent of all experimental rents. religion, and we were consequently taught, that to be the best dancer, painter, pianist, &c., should be the high bounds of our ambition. Through my sister, who was two years older than myself, I was introduced much earlier than I otherwise should have been to the gay and fashionable scenes of youthful vice. When a little more than sixteen years old, I was sent to school at H., some ten miles from home, my father having provided me with board in the family of Mr. M., an acquaintance of his, to whose charge he committed me, with the particular injunction that I must be kept from all religious meetings or influences. During my stay in this family, which was near four months, I was frequently got into difficulty by being charged, by the children of Mr. M., with their own mischievous acts, and was often severely reprimanded by him. On stating my situation, and wish for a new boarding-place, to a student by the name of Frederick A., with whom I had formed a pleasant acquaintance, he informed me that his parents, who resided in the village, had a spare room, and would take one or two boarders. I at once engaged the whole room to myself, together with board; of which I soon informed my parents, as also the reasons for leaving Mr. M.'s. Here commenced an entire new era in my life. In the family of Mr. A. all was entirely new and strange. The table was approached with invocation, and left with thanksgiving. Each day began and ended with prayer and praise. The entire family were living Christians, whose altar fires, like that of holy Israel, never waned. I was informed that the ringing of a small bell would give notice of the hours of family worship, and that I could attend or not as best pleased From respect to the order of the house, the summons of the little bell was always strictly attended to. Observation soon convinced me, that this family had some source of bliss to which I was a stranger. What was it? Was it their religion? Perhaps it was. Observing Paley's Evidences of Christianity, in the breakfast room, one morning, I carried it to my room, supposing I should ascertain from its perusal, what religion was. In this, however, I was disappointed, though its argument satisfied me of its truth. An increasing anxiety to know what religion was, induced me to get a Bible to gratify my curiosity. To this hour, I believe, I was as ignorant of what Christianity was, as the darkest heathen. Paley had convinced me of its truth as a system, but upon what it was based, or what its object and of what its importance, I was entirely ignorant. I had probably never read a verse in the Old or New Testament in my life. I commenced reading, and the commandment emphatically came home. I saw what religion was; that it was based upon the relations which man sustains to his Maker, and his entire uni me. verse; that all its commands and requirements, being based upon these relations, were just and right; and in consequence of obedience and disobedience, I saw, in some measure, its great importance. I believe, too, I had tolerably just conceptions of man's lost condition as a transgressor, and his remedy in the death and mediation of the Saviour. I do not mean to convey the idea that this amount of light burst upon my moral vision all at once. On the contrary, it was the result of investigating the subject for several weeks. Here, however, I made a complete stand. I saw that in order for me to be saved by the atonement, and become an heir of eternal bliss, an entire new course of life was requisite that I must wholly abandon all that I had been accustomed to prize. This I could not consent to. I concluded, therefore, to think no more of the subject; and, indeed, made every exertion for three weeks to banish it from my mind. But my efforts were worse than useless. The more I labored to keep my thoughts from it, the more complete seemed its influence over them. Every passing day awakened and convinced me more fully of the importance and value of religion. At this time, a vacation of two weeks spent at home diminished greatly my religious anxiety. On being interrogated on the subject by my father, I told him that the folks where I boarded, I believed, were religious; but that I had a room to myself, and they said nothing to me about it (which by the way was false); for as I was highly pleased with my boarding place, I wished to give such an account of it as would induce him to allow me to continue there-to which he assented. On my return to school, the subject of my own salvation forced itself upon my mind more powerfully than before I left. So strong was its influence, that in three weeks I was entirely incapacitated for my studies, and made up my mind to return home and get my father to help me out of the trouble. Having packed my books and clothes, with the view of returning home the following day, as I was sitting in my lonely room, the two following questions forced themselves powerfully upon my mind: What is religion? and what is its price? To the first of which I almost inadvertently replied, religion is that, upon the rejection or attainment of which, is suspended man's eternal interests-interests high as heaven, deep as hell, and vast as eternity. It is an institution of a God of infinite goodness and wisdom; and must, therefore be conducive to man's highest interests in time, as well as in eternity. But what is the price? It is the renunciation of sin. It requires the giving up of myself, and all my earthly interests. But as religion makes provisions for our highest interests, even in time, it of course cannot require the renunciation or giving up of anything but what really conflicts with those interests. The price is certainly reasonable, and I will have religion. A little reflection, however, convinced me that I must sacrifice much more than I had for the moment realized. I felt that I should have to incur the sneers of my sister, and the scoffs of my associates; but this was trifling in comparison to the displeasure and violent opposition of my father, who would doubtless entirely disinherit, and turn me from his door pennyless, if he could not induce me to renounce my religion. On the other hand, I saw that to reject religion now was in all probability an eternal rejection-one that would involve, beyond hope, the ruin of the soul. I saw, too, that the wealth of my parents, two-thirds of which I expected to inherit, might soon be scattered by adverse winds; or should I be permitted to possess it, very possibly it would be to me a curse rather than a blessing. Added to this, who could assure me that I should live to mature years to receive, even should my father be pleased to bestow? Instead of living to see my parents, to receive from them the opposition I had supposed, the morrow's rising sun might behold me dead, and damned, or (as hope for the moment lighted up the dark scene) some strange influence, like that which had operated on me, might awaken my parents and sister, and all of them, instead of opposing, might possibly accompany me home to heaven. Again, I felt that I would pay the price; I would have religion. For the first time in my life I fell on my knees, and asked God to help me make the sacrifice to dispel my darkness, and enable me that night so to repent of my sins, and believe on his Son, as to be saved. On rising, I felt strengthenened to go forward. I immediately called Mr. A. to my room, and told him my feelings. After giving me suitable instruction, and telling me that it was my duty and privilege to experience saving grace and the evidence of it that hour, he proposed to have the whole family come to my room, and have a family prayer-meeting for me, to which I readily assented. The exercises commenced by singing a few verses, which was followed with successive prayer by all present. While in prayer, I believe I gave up myself, and all my interests, in solemn covenant to God. I asked the forgiveness of my sins, and acceptance through the atonement and mediation of Jesus Christ, which I doubt not was granted. The winds were hushed, and the tempest calmed. I felt a peace that had in it all the sweetness of heaven itself. I then, too, saw the depth of the pit from which I had been taken-from the total ignorance of having lived more than sixteen years without so much as reading one verse in the blessed Bible-from the strongest irreligious influence which could possibly be thrown around me-from my own temple of worldly ambition-from all this I had been rescued by the mercy of God, by means, it seemed to me, of special interpositions of |