therefore, we are thrilled with horror, or shame, or grief, as we read how Jesus was insulted, and rejected by foes, and misunderstood and forsaken by followers, we should also remember that the mind is its own place, and that to him this place was a heaven. If we know any thing of the repose of filial dependence, of the delight of divine communion; if we have felt the exquisite satisfaction of submissive endurance and the energy of beneficent exertion; any degree of the celestial consciousness of intellectual power and spiritual purity, we must be aware that these delights, immeasurably magnified, were the daily solace of Jesus. Where there is purity, there must be peace; where there is devotion, there must be joy; and to one whose purity had reached its last refinement, whose devotion was exalted to the utmost intensity, there must have been an abundant recompence even for woes like his. It is true, that we can enter little more into his griefs than his joys: for the objects of our hopes and fears are, for the most part, the transient events of life, and our sympathies are confined within a very narrow circle of interests and expectations. It was far otherwise with him who, knowing God as the world knew him not, was able to see the issue of many things from the beginning, and to sympathize in the varied interests of humanity to the end of time. What wonder that he found none to share his burden of sympathies when, even now, the bare thought of it is overwhelming! When from an eminence he saw in vision all the kingdoms of the earth and their glory, his affections were also abroad, rejoicing with all who met to rejoice, and weeping with all who wept in the solitude of their homes. Knowing what was in men, their present griefs were his, their present joys were his; he felt for them more than they knew how to feel for themselves, because he knew also what was in store for them.

We could not endure such a depth of emotion, any more than we can appreciate the support which he had in a knowledge of the Divine pur

poses.

He looked upon children as destined to run the race of life as their parents had done before them, ignorant of their true end, rebellious under the mildest discipline, unconscious of the most unwearied benignity. How deep, how tender must have been his compassion! But more tender, more deep the joy of contemplating the issue of their wanderings, of anticipating the harvests which should-spring from seed thus sown in tears. When he took the little ones in his arms, he knew that in some hearts he was kindling a flame which should not be quenched till it had consumed all impurities, and consecrated the altar on which it burned to the service of God. When he set a sinless child in the midst, how clear, how affecting a view must he have entertained of the approaching deterioration of this child's mind, and of its gradual renovation, its far-distant confirmation in purity and peace! No one else knew as he knew through what strifes, what salutary griefs, what burtful enjoyments, what weariness, what transports, what tremblings of fear and hope the spirit must struggle in its passage to heaven: none could, therefore, feel such compassion. No one else knew the issue of this struggle, or could, therefore, adequately rejoice in the destination of human nature. To the elements alone could he confide the expression of his emotions. He came forth alone; for there was no one to join in his petitions, or to comprehend his thanksgivings.

Jerusalem was rejoicing in the mirth of her multitudes when he wept over her. The multitudes were astonished, as they would have been if they could have known the serenity with which he looked on many forms of evil which to them seemed monstrous. Beneath the stars he had learned to see

things which yet were not, as though they were, and on the sounding shore had been told that the ways of God were not as the ways of men. Therefore, when he came back into the cities he saw with other eyes than all around him. He saw many blessings in the shape of infirmities unquietly borne and eagerly shaken off, and knew perhaps that secret tears contained a more benignant influence than the smiles by which they were chased away. The sufferers might believe, as we believe, that all things work together for good: to Jesus yet more was given: he saw it.

Under what an aspect must society have appeared to him! The course of public affairs must have spoken an intelligible language to him, when he compared it with intimations from within. When he went up to the feast, year after year, how distinct must have been the evidence of gathering circumstances, how well-defined the shadows of approaching events as the consummation drew nigh! To us, no employment is so delightful as to trace out the Divine purposes in past events which were once mysterious; to mark the historical revolutions of states, and the varying fortunes of individuals; to look back keenly through the vicissitudes of our own lot, and observe how temporal changes have wrought out spiritual stability: but this is as nothing compared with the privilege of recognizing more extensive purposes in events which were, to all others, yet contingent. He saw that through the sufferings of confessors, the sacrifice of martyrs, and the evils which it was his office to foretell, new adherents should be continually gained to the little flock who should at length outnumber the sands on the sea-shore. He saw how every impulse of every mind was appointed to carry on the grand scheme of salvation; how all outward changes, all inward workings, were to contribute to the establishment of the gospel. Yet this insight into the destinies of society was learned in solitude: surely in a solitude like this, sanctified by the sanctity of his own soul.-The winds are rising, and the caverns are thundering amidst the dash of the waves. There is a deep and holy joy even to me, amidst this turbulence. How much deeper and holier to him who saw more vividly how all things were alive with the Divine presence! When he walked the deep, tempestuous like that which tosses before me now, when he trod the pastures of the valley, or looked on the fields white for harvest, or on that glorious type of himself, the light of the natural world, he saw in these forms a signature which is not fully legible to us, and received from them promises which we cannot yet understand.

Yet though these promises are not fully comprehended, though we cannot measure the griefs or estimate the sublime enjoyments of such a sensibility, combined with such a destiny, as that of Jesus, must not our sympathy be improved, our brotherhood with him strengthened, by studying as he studied, and resorting where he retired? The same book is open to me that he loved to look upon, and to which he perpetually referred those whom he taught. The same voice is now pealing louder and louder on my ear, to which he stood to listen by night and by day. The impulse to interpret it has to none been given in an equal degree, but yet it is given. Why, else, are men now collected in churches and on the hill-side to worship? Why is the calm of the Sabbath spread over the land? Why, else, is this mighty roar to me like the voice of the Saviour to John when he heard it as the voice of many waters? Why, else, is there a Sabbath at sea as well as on land; a gathering together to pray and praise where there is no bell to announce the day? In yonder noble vessel, now scudding, and now pitching among the winds and waters, there is, perhaps, an assemblage for

worship and if the voices should be drowned in the grander music of the elements, many there will retire where they can be alone, as I am, with God and the teachers he sends to human hearts. This impulse, if cherished, may lead to knowledge of which men yet dream not; may stimulate to vigour, of which none, but the supremely favoured, have been yet conscious. Hail, then, thou voice of wisdom, shouting from the deep and echoing from the shore! Rouse in me all the power that the world hath laid asleep! Revive in me that which I have already learned, and teach me more! While I am silent amidst this mighty chorus, breasting the storm as the steadfast rocks, speak, and I will hear !

VERSES.

YE have gathered around the same kind, friendly hearth,
Ye have answered the sounds of each other's glad mirth,
Ye have cradled and pillowed your heads on one breast,
The same gentle music hath lulled you to rest,
The same mother blest you; ye woke to rejoice
In the same kindly tones of that mother's soft voice.

And years have rolled on-some have left their pure home
Whose memory clings round them wherever they roam-
Oh! thus like a spirit, fond dreams of the past,
Will haunt us, and float o'er us e'en to the last.
Sad thoughts of the loved ones of life's early days,

A flower-scent, a voice, or an echo may raise.

Once more ye have met-but ye met not in gladness

Ye all met save one; oh! that meeting was sadness!

She who nursed you-who loved you-who soothed you in sorrow,
Lies calm in that slumber that knoweth no morrow;
Ye have heard the last blessing a mother may speak-
Ye stand in a silence her voice may not break.

Long, long may ye tread in the world's giddy round,
Bright hopes, and new joys, and fair prospects abound;
But 'midst all the treasures the cold earth can pour,
Ye shall pine for the love that can meet you no more.
The wreathed ocean-shell for the sea makes its moan,
Even so shall ye yearn for that mother's kind tone.
But be who hath gone to the bright " father-land,"
The loved one, the lost one, the pride of the band;
Oh! speak not his name with a sorrowing voice,
He hath passed to his God, and 'tis yours to rejoice.
To the portals of heaven his spirit will come,
To meet his blest mother, and welcome her HOME.

Kenilworth, November 12.

ELLEN LEGH.

ON HOME MISSIONS.

THE maxim, though like every other it is liable to abuse, is true, in all its applications, that charity begins at home. We condemn not the efforts that various Missionary Societies have made in foreign lands. We deem the efforts actually made good, while we think they might have been better. And better in our judgment they would have been if made first at home, and then abroad. A drunkard is a bad preacher of sobriety, and a nation of which the majority is Christian only in profession, is a sorry herald of the gospel. However this may be, the duty of Unitarian Christians lies, we doubt not, in the immediate sphere in which they are placed. Their actual means are inadequate to the support of foreign missions, and the resources which they can command may, in our opinion, be employed to by far the best effect under their own immediate superintendence. We would not, indeed, have this remark to be interpreted as if we disapproved of all missionary exertion in distant lands. On the contrary, as openings present themselves, it is doubtless the duty of Unitarian Christians to improve them. But, at present, the main effort of the Unitarian body must be made at home. Of the nature of the effort which seems desirable, and of some inducements to its being undertaken, we shall now briefly speak.

It is a home effort. The field is not the world, but our native land. We are convinced that competent preachers sent through the country to declare the unadulterated gospel of Christ, would be largely rewarded for their labours. What has been in this way effected, is only a tithe of the harvest that awaits the sickle, provided those who are sent go forth in the spirit of their work, with their souls kindled by gospel love, and intent on winning souls to Christ; provided they preach not the peculiarities of a theological system, but the gospel. Yet this mission is more comprehensive than what we chiefly wish to recommend. We have limited missionary labours to this country. We are not yet satisfied. We would limit them to each particular city, to every one's sphere, almost to every one's house. We see good, and are thankful for it, in efforts to convert the Heathen, in efforts to Unitarianize these kingdoms. But we covet more. We want to see the gospel sending forth a light into every dark place. We want the sounds of its ministers' voice to pass beyond the confines of narrow walls, and to make themselves heard in the mass of the population, in the cottage and the hovel, beside the poor man's hearth, yea, in the ears of the houseless and the outcast. We want the influences of the gospel to go forth from ten thousand channels into the bulk of society as the pure and life-supporting air breathes forth from every green thing on the earth's surface, ministering, silently but efficiently, slowly but incessantly, strength and vigour to every animated being. In a word, we want to see all Christians bestirring themselves to promote Christianity, each one labouring in his sphere to promote the gospel, each one labouring in his house, in his neighbourhood, to do the work of a missionary, and those who have ability, supplying the means of sending out men mighty in the Scriptures, and full of the blessing of the gospel of Christ, not into distant parts, but into the dark places of our large towns; yea, into every dark spot throughout the land. The effort we recommend, we repeat, is a home effort; it is an effort to send Christian men and Christian women, to send Christian preachers and Christian teachers, to send Christian tracts and Christian influences, into every home, in every district, in every city and town, where they are not found. Let us see if there

are not some considerations that recommend the adoption of the plan we have now suggested.

The adoption and pursuit of the plan of home missions must be in the hands of those only who measure their approbation by the amount of good effected. We make the remark, because we know that in pursuing home missions, their friends must forego nearly all the aid which the imagination lends to exertions in foreign lands. The amount of that aid it is not easy to compute. By scenes such as foreign missions put before the eye, the imagination is powerfully affected. The dauntless and enterprising spirit of him who goes forth braving the perils of earth and ocean, the very distance of the scene of action, countries shrouded in darkness, or lighted only by the lurid torch of fiction, appearing to the European mind as the land of Canaan did to the spies of the Jewish army-a land of giants—a land in which all the forms, whether of good or evil, are magnified into grotesque, terrific, or sublime proportions;-all this in home missions must be foregone. No appeal can be made in favour of their objects to the sense of curiosity; no wonderful details given of new modes of life, new forms of superstition; no gorgeous descriptions made of Hindoo abominations, temples seemingly coeval with the earth that they oppress; Juggernaut and his murderous car crushing as its wheels roll on the self-devoted victims to the God; ascetics voluntarily exposing themselves to the burning rays of an Eastern sky, or holding their bodies for days and months in a posture causing exquisite torture; the state of wretchedness and abasement in which myriads drag on their existence; the infant and the sire exposed to the merciless beasts or the as merciless waters; the widow and the lighted pile on which, with horrid cries and maddened spirit, she immolated herself in the very spring of life;—these and similar topics, true as they are fearful, must be foregone, and instead you must be content with common forms of ignorance, vice, and wretchedness-forms to which I fear their very commonness renders men insensible; yes, their commonness, that which ought of all things to kindle and sustain our sensibilities, which ought to open every good man's mouth with words of pity and admonition, and put into every good man's hand the consecrated staff of the gospel, that he might, by its more than magic influence, diffuse peace and holiness among the ignorant and depraved. The aid of the imagination we have said must be, at least in part, foregone; but if men have minds to be impressed and hearts to be touched, home missions are of a nature to secure their warmest sympathies. The sphere which they open out lies around you. The need of benevolent exertion you can clearly ascertain with your own eyes. The nature of the evil is open to your own inspection, and an accurate knowledge of the disease may lead to the application of a suitable remedy. Whether the evil be regarded, or the success of attempts for its removal, you are in no danger of being imposed upon by vague and deceptive statements. Palpable facts, instead of loose generalities, will be in your possession. There before you is the evil, not clothed with the gaudy colours of the imagination, but in all the vivid and fearful attributes of reality. There at your very doors is the evil-heathen vices in a Christian country, ignorance with its endless train of calamities; there you behold the brutal husband, the neglectful and neglected wife, the children a prey to disorder, strife, and filth growing up to infest society, to add the last drop to the cup of their parent's misery, to destroy every vestige of God's image in their minds, and to peril their everlasting welfare. Oh, to think of the thousands that there are in this country equally debased, miserable, wretched, as we have now described, is enough