"The voices of the people were excessively loud, and the tunes sung, some of the most lively now in use in some chapels in England, but both in their character and manner of singing them, bid. ding defiance to all solemnity and good taste. After Mr. Pacalt had spoken about two minutes, a woman began to make a strange tremulous noise. Supposing her to be suddenly seized with illness, I was surprized to find no one ready to help and lead her out, till her neighbours catching the infection, the noise spreading throughout the whole assembly, the men uttering deep groans; on expressing our astonish ment at the disturbance thus occasioned to the service, Mr. Pacalt informed us, that it had been considered as a sign of conviction, by the power of the word. But, supposing even," adds Mr. Latrobe, "that true conversion of sin might in some produce this effect, who does not see, that insincerity may easily adopt such external marks, to gain the good opinion of men, whose piety and truth being unsuspected, are willing to believe others incapable of so great a fraud." This, alas! is the conversion, with accounts of which Missionary Reports are filled and disgraced. What cares such a visionary as Pacalt, for the solid and rational usefulness of his de luded followers? What cares he for ploughing wastes and building houses, for all the arts and sciences that adorn and dignify our nature? Not a jot. These require skill, and time, and patience, and after all will make but a sorry display in Evangelical Magazines; but to say that hundreds, and perhaps thousands, are converted, is always easy, and never fails both to interest and delude. If the London Missionary Society will continue to arrogate the merit of converting the Heathen, let them educate their Missionaries strictly upon the Moravian plan. Let them trust no longer to the flourishing and false accounts of their self-interested agents in Africa. Their cause is no longer in the hands of, what they would call, scoffers and unbelievers. Mr. Latrobe, equally zealous with themselves, in the great object of converting the Hottentots, tells us plainly and honestly, that their principal settlement is most miserable, and their mode of instruction most delusive. Can the world need other or stronger proof? And yet these are the men, lately associated with those, who now come forward under the name and sanction of the Church of England, to send forth their raw yet bigoted disciples to Pagan lands. Surely we shall be excused, after such a disclosure of the mischief, which such Missionaries entail on the countries they visit; we shall surely be excused in withholding our praise. Facts like these speak more strongly and appositely than tens of thousands of pamphlets, which seize upon an abstract principle, and embellish it with tropes and epithets, confounding argument, disregarding evidence, and irritating and misleading the public. That Heathens should be brought out of darkness into the light of the Gospel, or rather that it is our duty to make every endeavour, under the blessing of God, to convert them, there cannot surely be a doubt. The fitness and urgency of the object is admitted on all hands; the only question is, as to the means. As to Africa, much as we respect the spotless lives, and exemplary and useful labours of the Moravian Missionaries, we repeat our trust, that some effort may be made to introduce, permanently, the rites and worship of the Church of England. This is too much to hope for. Why should other communities be so active and devoted in spreading their influence? Why should shiploads of other Missionaries be sent off without delay, wherever there is even a chance of making proselytes? Why should barbarous and uncivilized nations become acquainted with the faith of Englishmen, exclusively through ignorant and self-sent enthusiasts? We sincerely and anxiously trust, that these questions will be answered by the increased and lively interest and cooperation of the Members of the Establishment, with the Societies for Promoting Christian Knowledge, and for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts, in extending their efficient, yet unambitious exertions to the Heathen world. They have long laboured in these pious projects; and if they have not, like some later Societies, proclaimed their success to the world, their memorial yet lives in the me mory of the good, and in the earthly and eternal happiness of those who have enjoyed their parental and sacred care. There are many parts of Mr. La-, trobe's book which we could most willingly have transcribed, but we fear that we have already transgress ed our limits. Though, as a whole, it is indubitably tiresome, yet there are little detached portions, which place the auther in a most amiable light. The book is, moreover, written with great fairness. He never Would murder St. Peter For sake of the metre. Truth is told in charity, but yet with honesty; and if, in a second edition, he will curtail all that does not immediately relate or add information. to the great object of his "Visit to South Africa," we shall have no hesitation in thinking, and in saying, that - he has presented the public with an interesting and faithful account of the pious labours and distinguished success of the Moravian Brethren, among 'the most abject and friendless of the human race. Extracts from Jebb's Sermons. But granting, for a moment, the extreme and untenable position, that exemption from gross sin, may be pleaded as a title to eternal life, this concession could by no means secure the salvation of a lukewarm Christian. Such a person is exempt from disreputable vices, more by habit than from principle; more from constitution, education, or external circumstances, than from any parennial fountain of goodness in his own bosom. How then shall he stand in the hour of temptation? Habit, without choice, is but a poor preservative. Constitution may alter; education may be forgotten; external circumstances may undergo a total revolution. Where then, shall he find a power of resistance? The negative virtue, of the negative Christian, cannot be relied upon beyond the present moment, because it is impossible to foretell what incitements may be furnished, by the moment that succeeds. And, when once the bounds of habitual mediocrity are trangressed, that very coldness, which before was a preservative from vice, will become a bar anst recovery. Far other energy is indispensable in the process of repentance. An energy of character, which no sleeper ever yet possessed. An energy of the Holy Spirit, which no lukewarm Christian ever can im plore. For prayer to be effectual, prayer to be real, prayer to be prayer at all, must be fervent, energetic, and flowing from the fulness of the heart. Search then, your own hearts. What is your Christianity? Is it a living, affectionate, active principle? Or is it a lifeless, uninteresting, inoperative theory? What are its fruits? A knowledge of God's law, a performance of God's will, a delight in God's presence, and a desire of God's everlasting kingdom? Or must you confess yourselves, like the great mass of mankind, ignorant of the Scriptures, negligent of the commandments, lovers of trifling pleasures, devoted to this present world? Remember, if you sleep now, you sleep in the day, in the midst of pure sunshine, in the blaze of unspeakable light. In vain hath the day-spring from on high visited those who choose to sit in the darkness and the shadow of death. Yet not in vain. For it will increase their misery and condemnation, For this, is the condemnation,' saith our blessed Lord,' that light is come into the world, and men love darkness rather than the light,' In the night of Heathenism, indeed, there was a shadow of excuse, for slumbering and sleeping. But we profess and call ourselves Christians. We claim to be children of the light, and of the day. And if we sleep; that is, if we are lifeless, careless, inactive in the midst of motives, examples, and influences, which might animate the dead, then truly our criminality will be emblazoned, by the sunshine that every where surrounds us; and to us, above the men of Sodom and Gomorrah, the terrors of the last day will be heightened; in -proportion to the multitude of convictions stifled, and opportunities abused. But, God forbid that this be our choice, and this our portion! To sleep in the day, were unmanly in the literal sense; it were to close our eyes on the best natural gifts of our Maker. But in the spiritual sense, it would be a relinquishment of all spiritual feeling, a hatred of that light which shineth into every heart that will receive it. Therefore, as we would be men, as we would be Christians, as we would rise, and not sink, in the scale of our immortal being, let us walk as children of the light, and children of the day. Let us not sleep, as do others, but let us watch, and be sober. Let us not quench that aspiration after moral improvement, which God, at the first, implanted in our nature; and which his good Spirit delighteth to rekindle, and to cherish, till it become a bright and unextinguishable flame. What is the world? It is that system of nature and providence which God himself hath formed, and hath appointed as our present sphere of operation? Is it that fair and wondrous fabric which started into being at the creative word, when the morning stars sang together, and the sons of God shouted for joy, and the Maker of all, with tranquil majesty pronounced, that all was very good? Is it that combination of cheerful, animated, co-operative action, by which mind is elicited, intelligence expanded, social intercourse improved, benevolence excited and employed, and capacities matured, for every thing true and honest, just and pure, lovely and of good report, virtuous and praise worthy? Is this the world which we, must renounce? Is this the post from which we must retire? Are we to forego our place and occupation in this mighty sphere; to cease to be men, that we may become Christians: to cease to be Christians, that we may pursue an ideal phantom of unattain able abstraction? God forbid, 'my brethern! This is God's world; and to malign it, to desert it, to despise it, were to fly in the face of its Maker and Preserver; were to foresake the ; very purpose of our being; and to relinquish the instrumental means of our own religious perfection. But there is, indeed, a world, which the Scripture every where denounces conformity to which is everlasting ruin. That world, so lamentably degraded and debased by wicked men and wicked spirits; that agitated and distracted scene of feverish activity, impassioned conflict, visionary hopes, and real misery, which exists every where around us; but, through which the faithful Christian is privileged to move, like the three children, through the burning fiery_furnace, loose and without hurt. For upon him the flame hath no power, neither is the hair of his head singed, neither hath the smell of fire passed on him. And how, indeed, should he be injured? For another walketh with him; even the Son of God. But the pious Christian, while he lives above the world, lives within it. He has duties to fulfil, which may not be neglected; trials to surmount, which may not be evaded; benefits to confer, which will be repaid him ten thousand fold; and sorrows, perhaps, to undergo, which, if rightly improved, will but enhance that peace of God which passeth all understanding. Nor is he cold and insensible to those worldly blessings which a kind Providence may shed around his path. In this allotted sphere, he sees much that is good, and fair, and useful. And it is, at once, his effort and his privilege to avoid the evil, and extract the good. He beholds the world in its best aspect. And in scenes which, to eyes less purified, and tastes less refined, might appear barren and unprofitable, he discovers and appropriates matter of delight and admiration. He uses the world, therefore, but as not abusing it. He accounts all earthly blessings a deposit, to be managed with a view to the great day of reckoning. And he feels, that in secular matters, no man may safely enjoy what he is not ready, at all seasons, to abridge, and at any mo ment to resign. Such moderation is the secret of all human comfort. For, while the children of this world defeat their own object, by eager pursuit, and by intemperate fruition, the children of light, by keeping a reserve in their own hands, have a continual overplus of irreproachable enjoyment. One other circumstance remains. A circumstance unspeakably important. He who has renounced all undue conformity to the world, he who is transformed by the renewing of his mind, can attend, without distraction, to the movements of his own spirit. It is neither the business nor the charities of life, which keep a man from self-acquaintance. The most busy and the most benevolent of men may direct his best powers, with the best aid, and the most cheerful hope, to the correction of all that is amiss, the improvement of all that is corrected, and the perfection of all that is im proved, in the affections and dispositions of his nature. He can, at all times, and in all places, hold sweet communion with his Maker. He can, at proper intervals, withdraw from the vicissitudes of earth, to the calm and tranquil regions of eternity. And, by employing this world, and the things of this world, as trials of strength, and instruments of righteousness, he can transmute earth into heaven; the pilgrimage of man, into the paradise of God. From Buck's Expositor. Pliny the elder, that every moment of time was precious to him. At his meals, one of his servants read to him books, valuable for their information, and from them he immediately made copious extracts. Even while he dressed himself after bathing, his attention was called away from surrounding objects, and he was either employed in listening to another, or in dictating himself. Nothing ap peared to him too laborious, no undertaking too troublesome. He deemed every moment lost which was not devoted to study. Thus the minister, the student, the Christian, should be diligent, working while it is day; knowing that the night will soon come when no man can work. Pliny's death was as follows: he was very desirous of observing the effects of the volcanic eruption of Vesuvius; but staying too long, he fell down suffocated by the thick vapours that surrounded him, and the insuffer able stench of sulphurous matter. FOR THE CHRISTIAN JOURNAL. Version of the 23d Psalm. DAVID'S CONFIDENCE IN GOD. Though I pass through the vale of the shadow of death, Exercise thy with sinners to trouble me,-vain is their rage; 1 Tim. iv. 7, 13, 15. self unto godliness; give attendance to reading. Meditate upon these things; give thyself wholly to them, PLINY the elder perished A. D. 79. Diligence in the pursuit of objects. which are valuable is highly commendable. Time is passing on with rapidity; and every opportunity of obtaining or communicating good, should be earnestly embraced. And whether we are public characters or private Christians, our whole minds should be devoted to divine things. Nay, they should not be the object of our remembrance and reflection merely, but of constant study. Their importance and necessity demand the closest application. It is said of My table he spreads in the sight of my foes, And surely this goodness and mercy will last While days shall be number'd, till life shall be past *See Job x. 21, 22. for the grounds of this interpretation of the place of the shadow of death. No. 19.] THE AND LITERARY REGISTER. No. I. FOR OCTOBER, 1818. Memoirs of the late Mrs. Elizabeth Hamilton, &c. (From the British Critic.) MRS. HAMILTON was an excellent woman, and in many respects, an useful writer; we recollect nothing of its kind which has afforded us more amusemet than her modern philosophers; and we believe that it was eminently successful in exposing the morbid sensibility and pseudo-philanthropy of the French Revolutionary school; it may still be read with pleasure, though its immediate day is perhaps gone by; but in that day we are persuaded it did much good. Her Cottagers of Glenburnie, and we confess it with some diffidence, has not equal attractions for us; but we will not venture to oppose our own individual tastes to the general judgment of the country, for which it was more immediately written. We are assured that in Scotland it is considered a grand national work, and that it is quite as standard a picture of manners north of the Tweed, as Miss Edgeworth's Spirited Tales are portraits of those on the banks of the Liffey and the Shannon. With these feelings of the highest respect for Mrs. Hamilton's memory, we cannot but regret that the two volumes now before us should have been submitted to the public eye; they afford another striking instance of that injudicious friendship which has so often dragged into light domestic letters, and fragmental papers, raw materials of projected works, or skeletons of those which have been abandoned on reflection; documents interesting in privacy only, and, perhaps, not fully to be understood by any but those who are enabled, from the reVOL. II. [VOL. II. collection of personal acquaintance, to fill up the imperfect outlines which they present. Mrs. Hamilton, as we learn from à biographical fragment written by herself, was descended from the ancient family of Hamiltons of Woodhall; that estate having been granted to one of her ancestors by Pope Honorius, for "good deeds done in the Holy Land," in the first crusade. This spirit of "combating the enemies of the faith," was not soon extinguished in the family, though it seems afterwards to have taken a somewhat different direction; for we find that in Charles's time, its spirit blazed out in "zeal for the covenant, and hatred of episcopacy," and that Mrs. Hamilton's great grandfather very discontentedly expatriated himself to Ireland, rather than submit to the abomination of the Liturgy. In that country he bought a "track" (tract) of land in the county of Monaghan, no part of which however descended to Mrs. Hamilton's grandfather. This gentleman, early in life, entered the army, which having soon quitted for a civil employment, he married a lady of distinguished beauty and considerable fortune, but unfortunately of extra-vagant habits; the remainder of his story is told with some mystery, but enough is revealed to show that the catastrophe was most melancholy. On her grandfather's death, Mrs. Hamilton's father quitted the university, and entered into business at Belfast; her mother's maiden name was Mackay. And here Miss Benger takes the pen. Mrs. Hamilton was left a widow one year (1759) after the birth of the subject of these memoirs, and, at six years of age, Miss Hamilton was consigned to the care of her 37 |