ingly contemned. There, a spurious and reckless Liberalism, in union with a spirit of bold infidelity or atheism, leavens, and actuates, and maddens the public mind. But a very few years ago, we were shocked by the rumours of proceedings, fitted to make the ears tingle, and the heart ache: ebullitions of ungodliness, that were an outrage on civilization, and a disgrace to humanity: profanities and barbarities, that covered their perpetrators with infamy, and drew, in sorrow and amazement, the attention of scandalized millions to the scene of such atrocious misdeeds. Neither office, nor age, nor worth, availed to secure from the despiteful usage of an unprincipled populace, encouraged to indignities and violence, by the countenance or connivance of a magistracy, as wanting in regard for justice or decorum, as in respect for the authority of Revelation. By those, who were especially bound to observe them, the forms of law were wantonly set aside or trampled on. The appointed guardians of equity, became patrons of iniquity: and, instead of being restrained from acts of wrong, by a sense of propriety, or the requirements of decency, if not by reverence for the sacred, were promoters of mischief. There, the more faithful and Evangelical among the pastors were viewed with peculiar dislike, or marked as objects of vengeance. The shafts of malice were aimed at their characters, or 'the fists of wickedness' at their persons. They were laid under interdicts: their pulpits given to teachers of error, and their flocks dispersed, like 'sheep without a shepherd.' To have assembled, as aforetime, for purposes of instruction and devotion, was strictly prohibited: the attempt might have exposed them to the hootings or buffetings of the ungodly, and been visited by the judge with a verdict of condemnation. Even the dwelling escaped not vigilant surveillance. At any hour, its privacy was liable to be invaded by the intrusion of the hired informer. The father, for engaging with his household in the holiest exercises, might have been dragged from the domestic altar, and the bosom of his family, and been delivered to the custody of the functionaries of Government,-immured in a malefactor's cell. It was thus, at no distant date, in the Vaudois territory. We have heard of no outbursts of fanatical fury, such as, little more than a decade ago, were of repeated occurrence. But, there is reason to believe, that the Gospel, in its native purity and fulness, is as inuch disrelished as ever; and that, though excesses may not be committed, its faithful preachers meet with no more acceptance, and have no more liberty. But, fix not attention solely on the Lands mentioned. Look round the nations of Europe, and say, which of them, in a spiritual view, is so happily circumstanced as your own? Where, within the limits of that large and many-tongued Continent, dwell the people, whose religious advantages are comparable to yours? Of which of its numerous Governments, are the subjects so enriched with the treasures of sacred knowledge? Of which, do they possess, in such variety and abundance, the means of salvation,— all that conduces to the perfecting of the saints, and the edifying of the Body of Christ?' Of which, are they granted the same freedom of opinion; the same exemption from dictation as to creed and ceremony; the same liberty to avow and practise what, in matters of belief or worship, is judged agreeable to Scripture? Is there a single kingdom, where the rights of conscience are equally respected; where immunity from the exactions both of State control, and of Ghostly domination, is equally enjoyed? Search from East to West, from North to South, and see if, in the whole circle, there be one, whose rulers are so enlightened, whose laws are so tolerant, whose administration affords so little ground of complaint. We insult not your understandings, by asking, is it Spain? Is it Portugal? Is it Belgium? Is it any of the Italian States? Is it some member, principal or minor, of the Germanic Federation, that slavishly reverences the Tiara? Or, if no Country, where the Pontiff of the Eternal City lords it over mind; is it one of those in which the Monk of Erfurth has given name to the established Religion, or Protestantism, under another form and designation, prevails? Is it Prussia, or Sweden, or Denmark, or Holland, or the natal soil of the Magyar or the Hanoverian ? We shall not offend your pride, or wound your honour, by inquiring, which Province it is within the wide sweep of those dominions, over which the stern Autocrat of the North sways his iron sceptre? There exists, in the pomp of wealth and power, a Church as superstitious, and as exclusive, as her idolatrous and overbearing Sister of Rome: a Sorceress, that strangely fascinates sixty millions with her charms, and would fain play the Conjuror in an ampler sphere; like the hoary Lady in scarlet, that, during a millennium and a half, has been handing the cup of the wine of her fornication' among the nations. There, too, rules a Will, that brooks no opposition, but, with the absoluteness of Despotism, demands blind submission in things sacred as well as civil: issuing its Ukases in the mood, and the tone, of an imperious master delivering orders to his slaves; enforcing passive obedience by the the testimony of Holy Writ; or observing dread of conscription or degradation, of those forms of worship, those external orSiberia or the kuout, or by other inflic-dinances, which you deem most accordant tions alike summary and cruel. Resistance with Apostolical precedent and injunction. to the pleasure of the Czar, or nonconfor- The tenets maintained by yourselves, you mity to his injunctions, how arbitrary or are permitted to recommend to the accepunreasonable soever, would be a high misde- tance of others: to defend from the attacks meanour: no account being taken of con- of any one, how exalted soever in office or scientious scruples, or private judgment, station, who ventures to assail them to or duty to a heavenly King, whose com- advocate with all the earnestness, which mands are all holy and good, and whose their excellence may seem to deserve, or claims are the preferable. their importance to demand; and thus, by every fair and legitmate mean, to spread the knowledge of your creeds, and multiply the adherents of your Communions. To such works of usefulness, or labours of love,' as, in your respective spheres, it may be congenial to your feelings, or competent to your abilities, to undertake, no opposition, no discouragement, is sanctioned by the Statute-Book. The various schemes of philanthropy, which benevolence may devise, any of the plans of piety, which sanctified wisdom may organize, you can aid by your money, or counsel, or activity, without legal obstruction. You, the inhabitants of these favoured Isles, have no such grievances to complain of. Your happy lot it is, to be exempt from the trammels of usurpation, the yokes of bondage,' under which many foreign brethren groan; the impositions, the espionage, the nameless annoyances, that both abridge their liberty, and fret their spirits. In your day, an indulgent Providence has given the Churches rest:' so that you can sit, every man under his vine, and every man under his fig-tree, none making you afraid. It is your privilege to live under the shield of a Constitution, the boast of your own Country, and the admiration and envy of others. In her present Majesty, too, you behold the worthiest occupant of the throne, since the days of Alfred of blessed memory: a Lady, whose kindness of heart, and condescension of manners, and considerateness of disposition, have endeared her to all who have witnessed the display, or heard the fame, of her virtues: a Sovereign, who gracefully combines the dignity of Royalty with the gentleness of Womanhood, the Queen with the Mother; whose sceptre is equally mild and righteous; who sincerely wishes the welfare of her people, over whom, loyal, intelligent, mighty, and free, may she hold a long and prosperous reign: to whose amiabilities of nature, may the sanctifying Spirit superadd those lovelier qualities, of Divine original, and sterling worth, that constitute the highest nobility, and the truest adornment, of the soul: and, having 'served her generation according to the will of God,' may she fall asleep in the 'sure and certain hope of a better resurrection;' exchanging a crown of earthly materials, and of temporary duration, for a crown of glory that fadeth not away!' These, Christians of Britain, are among your chartered privileges. They are privileges, too, worth the hard contendings, which the procuring of them cost: privileges, not to be estimated by gold, and for which nothing can be offered as an equivalent. They are, therefore, not to be surrendered on any consideration whatever. So precious in themselves-more precious than all the treasures of earth-they ought to be proportionally dear in your regard. Duty and interest should lead you to watch over them with jealousy, and to guard them with care, that they may be preserved entire for your personal benefit: that other nations, impressed with their value and importance, may aspire to the possession of them: and that they may be transmitted unimpaired or improved, to posterity, for the good of children's children. Should their safety ever be threatened, in a single particular, either by the encroachments of Power, or by the artifices of Jesuitism, stand forth in their defence. 'Quit you like men.' Consider any exertions honourable, any sacrifices trifling, which you may be required to make, in order to retain them in their integrity, or by which their number and excellence may be further enhanced. To suffer them, without the most strenuous resistance, to be wrested from you, or even materially trenched on, would be equally your guilt and your loss. Meanwhile, Christians of Britain, we call upon you, again, to rejoice in your religious privileges. O be thankful to Him, to whose distinguishing goodness you owe them; especially, when you contrast your condition, in this respect, with that of not a few of the friends of Jesus scattered abroad. Be it your study to maintain a walk worthy of such peculiar favour, of so enviable a distinction. Only let your conversation'-your citizenship-'be as becometh the Gospel.' Approve yourselves the children of the light and of the day;' laying aside the works of darkness,' and putting on the ‘armour of righteousness.' Remember, habitually, the end for which your privileges have been conferred; and, through the communication of the Spirit, strive to be 'holy, as He who hath called you is holy.' In this way, as well as by verbal utterances, let the gratitude of your hearts be expressed. To you may, with some accommodation, be applied the language, which, on a memorable occasion, Moses, after enumerating their signal deliverances and special mercies, addressed to the chosen tribes. 'Happy art thou, O Israel who is like unto thee, O people, saved by the Lord, the shield of thy help, and who is the sword of thine excellency!' The God of Israel be the God of Britain! His eye be upon her; His arm around her; and He himself the glory in the midst of her!' His munificence shower down upon her the choicer blessings of His Grace, as His goodness has enriched her with the best gifts of Providence, and the rarer privileges of Religion! Her Queen 'reign in righteousness:' her princes and nobles be as great for piety and uprightness, as for rank and title: her people be all sober, virtuous, and happy! The renown of our beloved Land go forth among the nations for moral excellence: the helper of the weak: the dread of the oppressor; respected, admired, envied by civilized man! God, even our own God, bless her!' OBSERVATIONS Y. of Dr Robert Harris, a Puritan Divine, who died in 1658. He observed, that such as often changed their principles and faith professed, usually fell from scepticism to atheism. That so much humility as any man had, so much grace and worth he had, and no more. That nothing was to be accounted good in, or to, any man, but that which was his proper fruit, and done by virtue of his calling, from a principle of God, and for God. That the best man hath no security from any one sin, or fall, or temptation, any further, or longer, than he was held up by God's hand, and Christ's mediation. That God doth oftentimes leave us to own Satan's suggestions for our own, because we do not own God in his holy motions and breathings. That it is just with God to deny us the comfort of our graces, when we deny him the glory of them. In himself he observed, that what he forgot in the week, would unseasonably press in on the Sabbath; so that he could, if he durst, contrive more worldly business on the Sabbath than he could despatch all the week. That he found no greater enemy than discouragement, which he called the child of pride and unbelief. He used to say, that some duties, which were oft in men's mouths, he found very difficult to him; as 1. To deny himself in all his selfs, was a work to be learning whilst he lived. 2. To live only by faith, and a bare promise without a pawn, is a great work. 3. To give all to free grace, and to Christ alone, is a mighty work. 4. To love where we meet with unlovingness and contempt, is no easy matter. 5. To do one's proper work without some present pay and countenance from God and man, is a hard task. 6. That it is far harder to adopt others' comforts than their sorrows, and to hold one's self exalted in another's exaltation. 7. That to die in cold blood, and to be active in it, as an act of obedience, is the work of a Christian. In his sickness, he would occasionally vent himself thus It's a hard thing for a saint to forgive himself some faults, when God hath forgiven them. It's hard to think holy thoughts long, and to confine them to another's prayers. We know but little of Christ's love, till all be perfected, and spread before us in heaven.-Clark's Lives. ON LEAVING SCOTLAND. THE old gay haunt of early years With tottering steps I've trod; The youthful scene, that still endears Us to our native sod. Each broomy knoll, each gowany glen, Each little wimpling stream, All serv'd my mind to trace again The days of youth's sweet dream. In ilka grove I yet could trace, On some old oak or pine, Some rude carv'd letter or device, Impressions of lang syne. How dearly o'er those scenes of youth Did my fond memory pore; As well it might-perchance-forsoothThese paths I'll ne'er tread more. And must I wander forth alone, Far from the cot-the old hearth-stone- And must it be? Yes, forth I must; Days, months, and years have swiftly fled Since I beheld the silent dead Twas then my young and boyish heart "Twas then death's cruel, barb'rous dart Left me a wand'ring boy. Yes; let me, ere I cross the wave, But still I'm loath to part from those Caus'd by the sound, Farewell! years, But should the tide of time erase Lest fate should break the spell, When of this world they take farewell. Where does th' enchantment dwell? * His mother's grave, in Pencaitland churchyard. It harrows up the inmost soul It makes us cast a lingering look To all we hold most dear: Where breathes the mortal that can brook Then thither, thither, let me go: Sergt. 79th Highlanders. THE COMING MAN.' IN the world at large, no words are more familiar than these the Coming Man.' When we think of what they imply, we are brought face to face with one of the most interesting and saddening features of humanity. They reveal to us a depth of misery and helplessness into which man has fallen, and tell us that he longs for deliverance-nay, looks for it, at the hand of another, whose advent is expected. Here, we repeat, is matter for both sadness and hope. It is melancholy to think, that misery and degradation encircle the life of man: but it is cheering to know, that he feels his evils, and yearns so strongly to be freed from them; that, in his eagerness to escape, he has let what was originally the offspring of desire become the ground of a strong and unwavering faith, and created in his fancy a hero, arising to snap asunder his fetters. If we examine the hope which clings around the sentiment thus uttered by the world, we find it lively and undoubting. Age after age has cherished the idea of a Coming Man, with a fondness and fixedness unmixed with scepticism; and though centuries rolled away without His appearing, this did not diminish the faith in His eventual revelation. In our own day, the world does not look less anxiously nor less confidently for this approaching luminary -this universal emancipator-than at any previous period of our earth's history. Neither our contemporaries nor their predecessors have very clearly defined the nature of His mission, nor the order of His work. They have anticipated Him merely as a general deliverer and benefactor, great in intellect and moral worth, able to remove the wrongs and distresses under which humanity groans, and commissioned to introduce into the world an epoch of knowledge and universal prosperity. A to what the vagueness, therefore, as tive that may be, but beneath the veil of humility and abasement which surrounds that personage, there lurk a greatness and a glory unparalleled on earth. His brief history, after He comes fairly on the stage of public life, is dark and dreary enough, winding, as it does, through the vale of poverty and persecution, and clos Coming Man will really do and be, in a minute sense, attaches to the world's faith; but that He will, sooner or later, appear, is unquestioned. The world has been looking for Him for six thousand years: it is looking still; and so long as human life is what it is a short cycle of sin and sorrow-the faith and hope in a Coming Man will neither die out nor growing in shame and ignominy. But, be as dim. But, what is the real truth about the matter? The universality of the idea, and the tenacity with which it is held, forbid any one to suppose that it is groundless-that the notion of the appearance of a great deliverer is unfounded; natural, perhaps, in the circumstances in which man finds himself placed, but unwarranted by any higher authority than his own desire. An idea, with a foundation so flimsy, could not have become so general or so strong. It must, therefore, rest upon a firmer basis—viz., the word of the Creator: and, however much man may have misapprehended the character of the Deliverer promised, he has not lost sight of the fact, that such a promise was made; and his inherent faith in God, together with the felt necessity for a helper and a guide, has sufficed to keep it in that lively condition in which we now behold it. The world does not therefore rave, or utter a random sentiment, when it speaks about the Coming Man. It has got the very highest authority for its faith. But oh, it has sadly mistaken the tenor of the promise, and failed to recognise its fulfilment! If it could but receive it, this MAN has come already, and in His character of a Deliverer and Enlightener, has done more than the race who looked, and is still looking for Him, expected. High as are the hopes made to centre in Him, He has been ready long ago to satisfy them all, and go far beyond them. God the Creator has not only not been slack concerning His promise' to send a Deliverer; but the deliverance accomplished by Him whom He has sent, has been greater far than its subjects dreamed of. Yet the world, as a whole, has not recognised Him. It looks for another; for one who, alas! shall never appear; one who, in the region of literature, shall come as a poet; in the region of politics, as a statesman; in the region of morals, as a philosopher. Vain hope! The world must turn away from such an expectation as this. It must go back in its history for eighteen hundred years, and read those pages which speak of an infant born in a stable, in an obscure village of Palestine. Let it track the life of this little One up to manhood, and follow Him in His public career. Humble and unattrac 6 sured, O unobservant world, that, in the deeds and sufferings of that lonely One, there lies a Divine meaning, which constitutes IIim the very Deliverer for which thou hast long locked. In that despised and rejected Son of Mary, you behold the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sins of the world''the MAN Christ Jesus' -the Coming Man. In Him, and in no other, will you find your hopes realized, your earnest longings satisfied, and the expectations of six thousand years more than fulfilled. By doing this, you will not be required to cease the utterance of those words, which justly have such a fascination. Though the Deliverer came many hundred years ago, He is still the Coming Man. At His first advent, He came to take away sin by the sacrifice of Himself;' and to all those who seek an interest in the sacrifice which He then offered, 'will He come the second time, without sin, unto salvation.' To Adam, and the world before the flood,to Abraham, and all the Patriarchs,—to the Prophets, Priests, Kings, and people of the Jewish dispensation-He was the Coming Man; and, though more dimly, He was traditionally the same to all the nations of heathendom. To Christians, who believe in His birth, life, death, resurrection, and ascension, He is at this moment regarded in the same light; and to the world at large, though 'it knows it not,' He is the great personage who can answer all its aspirations, and is therefore even to it, as He is to those who know and rest upon Him, the Coming Man. Let us contemplate Christ for a little in this character, in reference to both His advents. The terrible, the fatal, deed was done. The tree of the knowledge of good and evil' was partaken of, and Adam and Eve stood guilty and condemned by each other's side. But, hark! the voice of the Lord is heard in the garden, and the terrified pair hide themselves from His once desired pre sence. It is, however, in vain. They are discovered, and brought before the Almighty. The sin is confessed, and the three parties-Adam, Eve, and the Serpent-receive their respective sentence. But here, even on the threshold of that misery and sorrow which the first sin produced, the promise of a deliverer is vouchsafed, the Seed of the Woman is appointed to bruise the head of the serpent;' and though the guilty pair are thrust forth |