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there is no alteration for the better, except only and grow like the majestic oak, whose germ in the countries where the Gospel has been bad long slept under the shade of a miserable preached. And what ground is there to imagine pine. that reason can do more now, make greater dis- As we can not tell how the small grain when coveries of truth, or more entirely subdue the put in the earth receives life, shoots up, and propassions of men now than it did in those ages?'' | duces the blade, then the ear and the full corn The light of nature is only like that of the moon in the ear, neither can we explain the precise and stars, highly beneficial to mankind; but manner how a man receives spiritual life from when the light of Jesus Christ shines into a Christ; yet that it is so can not be doubted for a man's heart it breaks forth in radiance over his moment by any who put the least confidence life and actions, and makes him a man, upright, in testimony or in their own consciousness, any holy, and wise.

more than they can doubt the fact of seed growHe is the dispenser of heat. Cold and dreary ing and producing trees. There are tens of winter visits our earth annually, but it is not thousands who are willing to testify that they because the sun does not possess the same in- have received spiritual life by believing on trinsic power then that it does in midsummer. Christ, and besides their testimony, their lives The reason is, the earth is farther from the sun. are living epistles, which may be read by all In spiritual things Christians have their "luke Their Christian deportment and chaste warm,” their cold seasons, and the very same conversation prove the inner spiritual life just as reason may be assigned—they are farther from certainly as fruit proves the existence of life in Christ than they were in their warm, zealous the tree. The life of Christians at the very out i hours. We have seen a gorge in the mountains set is beautiful. The light of grace adorns all completely filled by the drifting snow, and the their actions. Their simplicity of mind and cold rains and freezing nights had almost changed | teachableness of spirit, their lowliness and bu. that pile of snow into one solid block of ice, mility, attract universal attention, while the and, knowing that there were only a few hours fervor of their love excites admiration and esin the day when the sun could dart its warm teem. “The very shades in their character serve rays into the cold and dreary hollow, we have as a contrast to the excellency of the change wondered whether it could succeed in melting that bas passed upon them.” Such are beautidown that congealed mass before another winter fied with salvation, their light having come, and added more snow to it and rendered it still the glory of the Lord having risen upon them. harder to thaw; but the warm rays of the August No one can show these qualities in so eminent sun caused it to run away in little streams to a sense without possessing spiritual life. That water and replenish the fields and meadows this is so can not be doubted by any one who below. So we have gazed upon a poor wanderer puts the least confidence in his own consciousfrom God, whose heart had become frozen and ness, any more than he can doubt that it requires hard by sin and transgression, and, knowing that a pure fountain to send forth a pure stream. he was seldom in the way of Gospel impressions, He is the harbinger of joy. There is a terror we have wondered whether the Sun of righteous- in darkness from which human nature shrinks. ness could ever warm and subdue that cold and This may be owing to our incapability of ascer icy heart; but we have seen that the little beams taining the true nature and extent of the danger of truth occasionally falling on that heart con- to which we may be exposed, or to the uncer veyed warmth, and gradually melted it down, and tainty of the means devised to protect us. sent from it little streams of Christian love and When the day has closed with mysterious charity in all directions.

presages that announce a coming tempest; when He is the dispenser of life. All who are

“ Along the woods, along the moorish feng familiar with country life know that when the

Sighs tho sad genius of the coming storm;" forest trees are cut down and the ground cleared off, seeds of grass, and flowers, and wild plants, when the night closes in with terror, and the which had been lying there dormant perhaps for “whirling tempest raves along the plain;" when centuries, immediately shoot forth into life when the “turbid stream boils, and wheels, and foams," the vivifying heat of the sun falls upon them. and the livid lightnings flash continuously, preEvery man has the germ of spiritual life within senting the fierceness of the storm, how anxioushim, but it is so shaded and darkened by badly do the affrighted ones look for the morning passions and evil tempers, by sin and transgres- when the storm may be abated, and the sun cast sion, that it remains there in a dormant state till cheerfulness and warmth over the drowned fields! the quickening influence of the Sun of right- Or, when the noble ship, which has crossed old eousness falls upon it, causing it to spring up ocean many times, and plowed through many

billows, and weathered many storms, bows and much ambition to be satisfied with such a situasurrenders to the fiery element, with what in- tion. So on the morning of the 19th of June, tense anxiety do the poor, wrecked ones as they 1789, he turned his back upon Mirfield without cling, tenacious of life, to the spars, look for taking the trouble to let his master know where the light of day when some passing vessel may he was going. He was now, at the age of send out the life-boat to “pick them up!" Or eighteen, abroad in the world, with his pack with what solicitude does the invalid, as he upon his back-a poet in search of a patron. passes a sleepless night in pain and misery, long In a day or two after leaving Mirfield he prefor the day, hoping that relief may come; his sented a copy of verses to a noble lord, who genlanguage is, “Would God it were morning!” erously handed the bard a guinea. Surely he

So, also, the soul in darkness, storm-tossed might have thought the golden days were about with doubts and fears, sick with sin, longs for to return when poets were received into the the Day-spring from on higli—anxiously looks houses of the nobility, and their wants supplied. for the appearanče of Jesus. For as the sun But as he ran some risk of suffering for the comproduces cheerfulness and comfort, so, and much forts of life, he engaged in the prosaic work of more so, does our glorious Sun of righteousness selling goods to the inhabitants of Wath. Bu dispel sadness. It is said that when the first in about a year he became tired of this village, rays of the rising sun fell upon the statue of and went to London as a literary adventurer. Memnon it gave forth melodious strains of harp- Here he was received into the house of a booklike music. And what heavenly, soul-thrilling seller by the name of Harrison, who treated him music is not produced when the first beams of very kindly, but refused to publish his poetry. the Sun of righteousness fall upon the heart of He now made up his mind to try prose, but, like man! We will find its parallel only in heaven, many aspiring youths before and since his time, " through the tender mercy of our God; whereby he was doomed to disappointment.

He and the Day-spring from on high hath visited us to those to whom he offered his prose productions gire light to them that sit in darkness and in the differed slightly in regard to their merits. shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way In 1792 we find him at Sheffield. But his of peace."

troubles were not yet ended. He soon became the proprietor and editor of the world-renowned

Sheffield Iris. Those were troublous times, JAMES MONTGOMERY.

when it was dangerous for an editor to express

his opinions, unless they were such as the govAMES MONTGOMERY was born at Irvine, ernment wished him to entertain. Montgomery

Scotland, November 4, 1771. His parents was twice confined in York castle, the first time were pious Moravians, whose love to God and for three months on a charge of libel, the second their fellow-men, led them on a missionary tour time for six months on a charge of sedition. It to preach the Gospel to the slaves in the West required but little evidence to satisfy the juries Indies. But they both died soon after their ar before whom he was tried of his guilt, but the rival at their destination. When about six years world has long since come to the conclusion that of age our poet was placed at a Moravian school his imprisonments reflect more disgrace upon the at Fulneck, England, where he was far from British Government than upon him. After his being distinguished for diligence in his studies. release from his last confinement he continued The grave

fathers were sorely puzzled what to do to edit his paper till 1825, when it passed into with him, and little dreamed that he would ever other hands. In 1806 appeared The Wanderer become one of the most distinguished poets of of Switzerland, the first of his long poems. So his day. But he was not altogether idle. He greatly had he become discouraged that this was an inveterate rhymer, and his mind was work was ihree years passing through the press. filled with plans of poems that he hoped were It was favorably received by the public, and its to give his a place among

author's claims as a poet generally acknowledged.

But there was one critic who growled at the new “The few, the immortal names

candidate for fame. Jeffrey tried to convince That were not born to die."

the public that the book was unworthy the Little did they imagine the bright day-dreams praises bestowed upon it. He turned prophet, that visited the apparently-indolent boy.

and sagely predicted that in three years from the At length they concluded that there was no time his review was written nobody would know use in keeping him at school any longer, and that The Wanderer of Switzerland had ever he was accordingly apprenticed to the keeper been published! The critic must have wielded of a retail shop in Mirfield. But he had too a mighty sword indeed to have thus killed a poet

BY REV. S. L. LEONARD.

JAS

muse.

BY M. E. WILCOX.

at one blow. It is to this circumstance that the with an inspiration gained at the foot of the following lines in English Bards and Scotch Re- cross, and as if he felt that his business on earth viewers refers:

was to lure men to heaven, " With broken lyre and cheek serenely pale,

The powers thus devoted to the service of God Lo! sad Alcareus wanders down the vale!

and humanity are not small. The world has Tho' fair they rose and might have bloomed at last, long since acknowledged that the bard of ShefHis hopes have perished by the northern blast. field is justly entitled to a place among the first Nipped in the bud by Caledonian gales,

poets of his age. His long poems are none of His blossoms wither as the blast prevails;

them destitute of many passages of great beauty, O'er his last works let classic Sheffield weep;

but they are all wanting in unity and dramatic May no rude hand disturb their early sleep!”

force. It is in his short pieces that he is most If the poet was killed, or, rather, his works, they successful, and upon these his future fame will came to life again. Every school-boy knows principally depend. Many of them are among how completely the critic's prediction has been the most beautiful productions of the British fulfilled. The remainder of our subject's life No person of taste can read The Comwas characterized by successful authorship. The mon Lot, Hannah, The Harp of Sorrow, or Ode West Indies was published in 1810, The World to the British Volunteers without acknowledging Before the Flood in 1813, Greenland in 1819, that their author was a true poet. His hymus and Pelican Islands, the last of his long poems, are an invaluable treasure to the Christian world, in 1827. From that time he contented himself and bid fair to be sung in the assemblies of with writing short pieces. He died, full of years God's people as long as the language in which and full of honors, in the year 1854, at the age they are written is used. Our author as a writer of eighty-three.

of sacred songs is inferior only to Wesley and While a boy at Fulneck, Montgomery became Watts, yet it is in this species of verse that he the subject of converting grace. But after leav- most excels. ing school he turned back again to the world, but never so far shook off the influence of his

UNKIND WORDS REMEMBERED pious parents and teachers as to become vicious in his life. He was again aroused to a consideration of his spiritual condition when a tendency Tired with the day's incessant exercise, to despondency, similar to that which cast so

I think to rest in slumber soft and deep, dark a pall over the life of Cowper, kept him for But sad Remorse, with her reproachful eyes, a time from that enjoyment in the service Stands by my bed and will not let me sleep. of God which he might otherwise have pos- o, sorrowful avenger, let me rest! sessed. At last peace dawned upon his mind, What have I done that thou shouldst haunt me so? and his last years were cheered by the consola- | There is no hidden perjury on my breasttions of religion. Even during much of the My hands from crime's red stain are white as period of his despondency religion exerted controlling influence over his conduct. For the Surely a hasty word may be forgiven; greater part of his life he was earnestly engaged 0, let me have a little peace! go hence! in the promotion of the glory of God and the Seek those whose great transgressions cry to heaven, welfare of his race. He is emphatically a Chris

Whose hands are red with deeds of violence. tian poet. While Byron seems to have written I did not think the words were so unkind, for the purpose of corrupting his readers, while 'T was in a bitter moment they were said; Moore dresses vice in the garb of an angel, Alas! the day was brief and I was blind, while Wordsworth ignores the distinguishing doc- And they whose hearts I wounded so are dead! trines of Christianity, while Scott and Southey too late to make atonement; voice or sign seem to have no higher aim than the entertain- From their sealed lips will never more be heard; ment of their readers, Montgomery aimed to No long forbearance, no kind deed of mine charm his into a love of piety. There is not a Can ever expiate that bitter word. single line in his works that tends to leave a

They sleep in dust, and I have given them pain; stain upon the minds of his readers. The enco

0, lenient Savior! help me from this day mium that Lord Lyttleton passes upon Thom- Never to speak in bitterness again, son, that he wrote

To treat the living gently while I may! “No line which, dying, he would wish to blot," In thy dear love I trust to be forgiven,

My Savior; yet if they could only know, is fully applicable to Montgomery. But he is 0, tell them, tell them if they are in heaven, not satisfied with mere morality.

How much I grieve for having spoken so!

Snow

He sings

BY VIRGINIA F. TOWNSEND.

ALL WE'VE GOT.

There hung Ellen Peat, her trembling, pallid school-mates clustered together, and gazing on

her with eyes fascinated with terror; there hung (CONCLUDED.)

Ellen Peat, shriek after shriek for the dear life “O

DEAR! 0, dear! I'm going!" cried Ellen that hung on so slender a thread bursting from Peat.

her lips, and filling the forest echoes with shudIt was a Wednesday afternoon late in October, ders; there hung Ellen Peat, with none to help and she had wandered off into the woods with a

or to save but God. small company of class-mates to gather wild And God sent her help. That very

afternoon flowers and wintergreen berries, and at last one Harry Peat had gone down to the river to catch of the party had proposed ascending Pine Mount- pickerel, and as he took off the hook from his ain, along whose sharp ledges the golden-rod line and glanced exultantly at the pile of fish in hung its yellow banners with every autumn. his basket, that wild cry of terror running along

So the girls had found their way up the long the echoes reached his ear; he dropped his line, rambling path, which tangled itself among chest and his heart stood still for dread as he listened, nut, and oak, and birch-trees, to the summit of and shriek after shriek filled the sweet, solemn the old mountain, where the soft October wind afternoon with terror. rose and fell among the pines in long, slow Harry Peat was a brave, generous boy, and he moans, whose sound threw a momentary shadow knew that voice was the voice of a child in morover the hilarious mirth of the party.

tal dread; and he sprang up and hurried along At last they separated to gather mosses and the bank of the river as the sound led him, till, wild flowers, and Ellen Peat crept with one of turning a sharp corner of the rock, he looked up her companions to the ledge of the rock to and his eyes beheld Ellen Peat where she hung gather some mosses, which heaped their beryl clinging to the oak. cushions around the roots of the pines.

For a moment the boy turned sick and faint The girl did not perceive that she was ventur- at the sight—the rock and the girl reeled before ing on dangerous ground, for the edges of the him—the next a sharp, ringing voice full of hope precipice had been worn with storms, though the and courage broko among the shrieks: grass grew fair and thick along them; but there "Hold on tight, Ellen, I'll try and save you!" were many places where the earth would yield Harry Peat possessed unusual suppleness and under a slight pressure, and at the foot of the agility of limh, and though the mountain was mountain, a hundred feet beneath, lay a deep, steep and high, it did not baffle him. Up, up rapid torrent, which only a strong swimmer climbed, the great drops of perspiration gathercould breast. And to one of these aforesaid dan ing and rolling in streams down his face, the gerous places crept Ellen Peat in her thought- veins knotting themselves into blue cords on his less search for flowers and mosses. It was not brow, yet he kept on, and his cousin held with a strange that the child had no suspicion of her fainter grasp on the tree, and the branch creaked danger, because the grass and mosses were thick louder and louder—0, the arm that should save on the shelf of sand that jutted over into the Ellen Peat must be strong and rapid now! river, but the thin rind of earth could not sus- It was a boy's arm, but a brave one that was tain her weight; it gave way, however, so slowly reached out, for Harry Peat had gained the nearthat she might have escaped had she not grown est foothold to the tree, and that was a most uns dizzy with the first frightened glance beneath safe one, for the recent rains had washed the her. Her companions were startled by a grat- sides of the rock, and the boy as well as the girl ing, tearing sound; then the wild cry of Ellen was in imminent peril. But Harry Peat braced Peat as she went over the precipice ran among himself firmly as he could against the rock, then the old wood echoes in shivering terror and he reached out his arm to his cousin. agony which fairly curdled the blood of those “Let

go,

and take hold of me tight, Ellen!" who heard it.

It was her last chance; the branch was breakBut a few feet from the summit of the mountain ing, and the child caught her cousin's hand. an oak had taken root, and the frightened child “Now, take the other; do n't be frightened, caught at the boughs in her fall. The young I'll hold you." tree swayed to and fro with her weight, the slen- Ellen Peat grasped her cousin's hand just as der branch creaked under her grasp, and there the branch broke and fell sullenly into the waters she hung over that boiling torrent which roared below. The boy's form shook to and fro under hungrily nearly a hundred feet below for the her weight; but he kept his footing, and drew his young life it waited to swallow up with its lips cousin close to him. of foam.

It was a difficult but short task to climb with

he

Vol. XX.-42

his burden to the top of the mountain. He “And your father's name?' fairly flung her on the grass, for his own strength “Jared Peat, sir.” was giving way; but when her frightened school- It was the name of his brother. mates gathered with tears, and sobs, and shrieks of joy about her, she did not open her eyes; she “Wall, what is it, daughter!" and Nathan Peat did not hear them; that terrible crisis of agony leaned tenderly over the bed on which his little had been too much for her—the child bad girl had lain helpless for more than two weeks, fainted

prostrated by a nervous fever, which had fol. The day was dropping toward the night, and lowed the terror and excitement of her fall over farmer Peat was slowly wending his way home- the rock ward, touching his patient oxen occasionally Ellen Peat lifted the bright eyes set in that with his long whip, and internally congratulating pale face to her father's, and her fingers moved himself on the good bargain he had driven that restlessly over the counterpane, for she was in day with his wheat at the mills.

the early stages of a long and wearisome conHe had just reached the old turnpike when a valescence. couple of his neighbors' children, class-mates of “I'm so tired, father, of lying here and watchhis daughter, came suddenly upon him.

ing the sunshine creep along the paper, and “O, Mr. Peat!” cried the breathless children, counting the stripes of white and blue, and then "you do n't know what's happened to Ellen!" all that time comes back to me again, and I

The man stopped, and his brown face grew seem to feel the ground giving way, and I grow white with sudden fear.

dizzy, and I go over the rock and cling to the “What is the matter with my child ?” he said tree, and the branch is creaking, and creaking, in a voice which told better than any words that and the water is roaring underneath. O, father!" all the father was alive and stirred in his and the child shook and shuddered convulsively, heart

and buried her face in the pillow. “She lies ap there on Pine Mountain. We “Come now, father's little girl most n't give can't bring her to. She fell off-0, Mr. Peat!" way to such thoughts," and Nathan Peat's hard and here both the children broke down into sobs. hand was laid softly on that bright hair. “What

The farmer threw down his whip; the patient can he do for her to drive them all away?" cattle stood still in the road. The rock was two “Mamma always tells me some pretty story of miles off, but the man was not long in reaching the time when she was a little girl

. She promthe summit

ised to to-day before she heard that aunt Ellen His daughter lay on the grass with her fright- was so sick. O, papa, you never told me a story ened schoolmates about her, and her head rested of the time when you was a little boy!" on the knee of the solitary boy among them, “Wall, there was n't much to tell," answered who was chafing her temples.

the parent a little concisely and uneasily. “What has happened to my daughter?" asked “But I'm sure there must have been a good the father as he took up that unconscious figure deal,” continued the girl with the persistence most tenderly in his arms.

and peremptoriness of illness; "and I want to The boy was silent, but all the girls answered hear something about it." him, and in a few moments he had learned the “Wall, what do you want to hear?" whole story.

“O, about grandpa and grandma, who died 90 Nathan Peat looked over the precipice on that long ago, and about any body else who was young sapling and down on the torrent that there." roared beneath, and only looking there could he “There was n’t many on us." realize how marvelous had been the escape of "I know, but you had one brother; and no his child. Shudder after shudder went over his matter what he has done now, you must have stout frame, and his ashy face worked like a loved him when both of you were little boys child's At last he turned to the boy, who sat together." white and exhausted on the ground.

“'Tis n't best to talk about things that are “You have saved the life of my child-God past," answered Nathan Peat, wincing a good bless you!" His voice was hoarse and broken. deal.

“Thank you, sir; I am glad I was in time.” “But I want to now, father." Ellen would " What is your name, my boy?

scarcely have ventured on this ground had she "Harry Peat, sir.”

been well, but she knew her sickness would inThe man staggered back a little. It could not demnify her for any degree of boldness. “Since be those stout limbs failed under the light frame I 've laid here with nothing else to do I 've of that senseless girl on his breast

thought a great deal about it."

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