multitudes of cases, the objects, the proportions, and the amount, of charitable donations; while, with very many, money is always scarce, they are always poor, calls for charity are always numerous, especially of late,-when a call is made. Why is this? Not always because there is no benevolence; but, often, because there is no system, no settled and wise plan, in the discharge of this highest, noblest, most important business of life. Though the amount saved by our correspondent, was not large, it was carefully managed. And what a revenue of good did it produce! One of the Lord's poor is fed, clothed, sheltered, and cheered, in her passage to the tomb, and to a better world. A weekly stipend is also afforded to a distressed family. And, in addition to all this, a larger sum of money, by four times, than many, in better circumstances, contribute, as their sum total for a whole year, was given as the appropriation for six months, to the general interests of the church. No wonder the plan has afforded to the generous deviser much satisfaction, as he assures us it has. It is more blessed to give, than to receive."

Its Economy.

I have no doubt, Sir, that the deductions made on every gain, have been saved in carefulness and economy."

Whoever adopts a system with respect to his charities, will be likely to do his other business systematically. Whoever is conscientious and exact, in complying with charitable claims upon him, will be so in his other concerns; and this will lead to the truest and best economy. He, who spends one part of every gain to promote the cause of God in the world, will not be inclined to spend the other part thoughtlessly, or extravagantly, or wickedly. "There is that scattereth, and yet increaseth; and there is that withholdeth more than is meet, but it tendeth to poverty." Prov. xi, 24. The blessing of Almighty God must be assigned as the ultimate and primary reason of this increase; but then there are other proximate and secondary reasons. The bare fact of bestowing charity, provided it results from a proper motive, must have a moral influence on the heart, which shall be felt and exhibited in the whole manner of living. And if these Christian acts are carried into the common business of life, and are multiplied to the number of the gains in commercial transactions, they must so bring into view, and hold up before the mind, the Gospel motives and rules of purity, and honesty, and active diligence; as greatly to prevent poverty, and the numberless disappointments in pecuniary concerns, to which men are liable.

And now what is necessary, in order that the gospel may be sent to every creature, and the Lord Jesus receive the promised reward of his sufferings; but that every Christian should be conscientious, systematic, and liberal in his charities? The ability of the Christian church, as a body, to make known the way of life to every family upon earth, has been proved too often to need proof from us. Were every Christian to do his duty, the work, great as it is, would be done. And since so little has been effected, and so much remains to be accomplished, there must be a distressing neglect of du

ty somewhere. We trust the example of our correspondent, will provoke" some to abound in those "good works," the direct tendency of which is, to meliorate the present condition, and to shed light from heaven on the future and endless prospects of millions of immortal beings. We hope, that, in respect to many, it will be the means of raising the standard of Christian charity;-making it as much the object of forethought and plan, as any other employment; carrying it into the business of every day; and rendering it the great and primary object of life:-that which, more than any thing else, imparts a value, and pleasure, and desirableness to this mortal existence, this "little piece of life everlasting."

We close this article, already too much protracted, with an extract from "Law's Serious Call."

"The manner of using our money, or spending our estate, enters so far into the business of every day, and makes so great a part of our common life, that our common life must be much of the same nature, as our common way of spending our estate. If reason and religion govern us in this, then reason and religion hath got great hold of us; but if humour, pride and fancy, are the measures of our spending our estates, then humour, pride and fancy, will have the direction of the greatest part of our life.”

WHY PHILOSOPHERS DISLIKE MISSIONS.

NOTHING short of those motives, which sustain the missionary cause, ever induced men, or ever will induce them, to wear out their lives in the most laborious employment of raising up from their low and lost condition the helpless children of strangers and foreigners.

Philosophers approve of education and civilization; though they ridicule the very idea of a Christian mission. But what philosopher ever went to reside among savages, for the purpose of teaching their children? What philosopher ever formed an alphabet for the sounds of a language never before written? Yet these things are done by missionaries. Strange, that the very things which philosophers applaud, should be accomplished only by missionaries, the very men whom philosophers despise. The reason, however, as Dr. Chalmers suggests, is obvious. Missionaries carry the gospel. They are labouring for the interests of men, as immortal beings. If they were not influenced by these high and commanding motives, they never would have zeal enough to live among the pagans at all; and, of course, could never introduce literature among them. But philosophers cannot bear those truths, which the gospel always presents; nor those men, by whom the gospel is urged as necessary to salvation. ib.

REVIVALS OF RELIGION.

A REVIVAL commenced some time since in Southampton, Mass. and is still progressing. Christians have been greatly refreshed, and many who were far from God and far from righteousness, are now rejoicing in God. It is believed that upwards of 170 are indulging hopes that they have passed from death unto life. More than 200 now attend the anxious meetings, many of whom are earnestly enquiring to know what they shall do to be saved.

At Easthampton God is doing great things: about 90 have hopefully been born into the kingdom of the Redeemer. About 200 attend the anxious meetings. A deep solemnity pervades the whole town, and many are impressed with a sense of their guilt and danger, and seem determined to rest short of nothing but an interest in the Saviour. Christians in that place appear not yet to be satisfied; and it is believed that they will not soon cease praying for the cause of Christ and the salvation of souls. The work has been gradual, attended with no noise nor confusion; but with such power as to break down at once all opposition, The false refuges of sinners have been swept away, and they have found themselves condemned, and without excuse in the sight of God. Many stout-hearted have been humbled at the feet of Jesus. Parents and children have begun together the song of redeeming love.

A work of grace has commenced in Norwich, and is rapidly increasing. In Westhampton also, a revival has begun and is spreading through the town. About 70 or 80 attend the inquiry meetings, and several are rejoicing in hope. In Northampton are some hopeful appearances: Christians are beginning to take hold of the promises with a good degree of confidence and assurance, and the enemies of religion are agitated and disturbed. In Hadley the spirit has been poured out, and several have been brought to submit themselves to God: many are serious and the work is increasing. There are indications that God is about to bestow rich blessings upon all his churches in that region.

LITERARY NOTICE.

A VOLUME of sermons by the late Rev. HENRY MARTYN, is now in the bookstores, containing twenty sermons on the following subjects:

On the Atonement, Heb. ix, 22.-The love of God in the gift of his Son, John iii, 16.—The reigns of Sin and Grace, Rom. v, 20, 21.-The Scriptures more persuasive than any miraculous appearances, Luke xvi, 31.-The doom of the wicked, Ps. ix, 17.-The deceitfulness of the heart, Jer. xvii, 9.-Tribulation the way to the Kingdom, Acts xiv, 22.-The Christian walk, Col. ii, 6.-Felix, Acts xxiv, 25.-Invitation of the Spirit and the Bride, Rev. xxii, 17.-The new creature, 2 Cor. v, 17.-Nature and means of conversion, Acts iii, 26.-The Apostle's description and salutation of true Christians, 1 Cor. i, 1-3.-The preaching of Christ crucified, 1 Cor. i, 23, 24.-The Church a spiritual building, Eph. ii, 19-22.-The trembling Jailer, Acts xvi, 29-31.-The state of Nature, Eph. ii, 1-3.-The state of Grace, Eph. ii, 4-7.-Christ's grand commission to his Apostles, Matt. xxviii. 18-20.--Christian India, Gal. yi, 10.

"Thus sitting, and surveying thus at ease
The globe and its concerns, I seem advanced
To some secure and more than mortal height,
That lib'rates and exempts me from them all."

PURSUING a winding path which led up the side of the mountain, I at length reached the summit, much fatigued with the labor and exertion it required to rise the steep acclivity. Here I seated myself on a rock, which rose a little above the surrounding bushes, to enjoy the refreshing breeze which moved gently over the hills, disdaining the humility of the vale below. It was at the close of a fine suminer day, which had been unusually clear and warm. No cloud had spread its cooling shade around, to alleviate the oppression of the sun's rays. Scarce a breeze had moved along the valley to fan the fainting animals. But now the eastern shadows were creeping along the ground. The sun had far passed its meridian, and was hastening down the western sky to bathe itself in the broad blue ocean. The laborer having completed his task, with merry rustic song, was hastening to the bosom of his family, to forget his toil and fatigue in the pleasures and sympathies of the domestic circle. The weary traveller was enquiring for "the stranger's home," and the husbandman was returning from his fields with loads of the rich and joyful harvest. A solemn silence reigned, and every thing conspired to excite the most pleasing reflections. The prospect which this commanding elevation afforded, was truly grand and beautiful. Here I could drink in the beauties of the landscape.

Cultivated fields, with here and there the curling smoke rising from the scattered hamlets along the vale; sloping hills, covered with the green forest trees, or speckled with the feeding flocks; smooth fragrant meadows, adorning the banks of a little blue stream, which pursues its winding course till lost behind a distant hill, and a beautiful little shining lake of a circular form, fringed on its border with the dark shade of an overhanging wood, all lay in full view before. me, and excited emotions which few scenes have the power to create. Indeed, nature seemed to spread out its charms with such inviting loveliness, as to subdue every passion but delight in its beauties, and admiration of its great Author. Who, said I, can view such a scene as this, without having his mind led "through nature up to nature's God"? Who can contemplate such grand and magnificent works of creation, and not recognise the hand which formed them, or without being led to adore that Being who gave to nature all her beauty and loveliness, who reared the mountain to its eminence, covered the hills with their foliage, and spread over the fields' that beautiful carpet, which mocks all the efforts of genius and art to imitate? What but infinite power, united with infinite benevolence, could have furnished man with so much to promote his happiness and improvement. But too often it is true that

"The landscape has its praise, but not its Author.”

A small grove on my right waved lightly before the evening breeze, which now came sweeping over the land with its refreshing influence. At the foot of the mountain lay the green meadows which stretched themselves far to the north, bounded by hills rising with a gentle slope from the opposite side. Beyond, the innumerable little eminences and higher hills presented a most beautiful undulatory appearance. In the distant prospect, which extended as far as the eye could reach, and comprehended nearly a semicircle of the horizon, a dark forest rose in awful grandeur, covering with its gloomy shade the rising hills which reared their heads one above another, till the blue summit of the mountain seemed to blend and mingle with the sky. The sun had almost reached its gloomy retreat. It seemed to linger for a moment on the top of the mountain to take its last look and bid the world farewell, and then sunk out of view. Its reflected rays, however, were still visible, and for some time delighted the spectator with a beautiful red sky. A little blue cloud which rose just above the horizon, was