distinction between what is merely ephemeral, and what is of permanent interest, though appearing in publications which, from their being issued periodically, may seem to assume somewhat of the ephemeral form. The injurious effects of this mode of treatment upon the readers of periodicals are such as it would be difficult adequately to estimate. Hence springs a kind of flippant manner of dealing with them, which inflicts far more evil upon the mind that adopts it, than upon the publications which are the subjects of it. A kind of semi-contemptuous system of smattering criticism is engendered, where the critics are oftimes utterly unacquainted with the nature of the articles which form the theme for the exercise of their imagined talents,-having only, at the most, looked them over!' We have seen those, who, having on the first day of the month eagerly waited for the arrival of the Periodicals, glanced at the advertisements, read the list of contents, and dipped into' the middle of the various articles contained therein, without even cutting the leaves, have henceforth considered themselves as competent judges of the contents of such publications, and talked with fluency and confidence on the merits or demerits of the various papers or articles contained therein! Rather than that such should be the results attendant upon Periodical Literature, we would have all of a more enduring kind than Newspapers instantly abandoned, and these henceforth strictly confined to the province which their name imports. We would bid adieu to all the uses which we imagine may flow from such publications, in order to shelter ourselves from the flood of abuses which would thence threaten to overwhelm us. But we are happy to believe, that what we have alluded to, are only extreme cases, and are not to be regarded as furnishing any general rule. When we look at the number and variety of the subjects which are handled and discussed in the Periodical Literature of the day; at the talent which is unquestionably brought to bear upon them; and, at the high, moral, and religious principles which are seen distinguishing many of these publications, we can only earnestly exhort our fellow men and fellow-christians, not to allow themselves to be deprived of the decided benefits which may result from their perusal, from any distaste for their periodical appearance; and not to suffer that the talented and highly valuable articles that appear in them, should be neglected, and laid by, as out of date, because they happened to be published in March 1843, instead of March 1844! For ourselves, we are free to confess, that we derive pleasure, and we hope profit also, from the perusal of many old as well as new Periodicals, when time and circumstances permit. We feel convinced, that very many of the Articles contained in them are well deserving an attentive reperusal, and a frequent reference; and with a view to observe the golden rule of doing to others as we would be done by,' we have aimed to direct their attention to a subject from which we hope they may derive real benefit, and to throw out a few suggestions on a topic which-as far as our knowledge extends-has never been discussed, or treated of, with anything like the considerate attention which it may justly claim. THE SLEEPERS. "Awake! thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead: and Christ shall give thee light." EPHES. V. 14. "Ir he sleep, he shall do well," said some of old-for "they thought that he had spoken of taking of rest in sleep." I mean to speak of taking rest in sleep: Tir'd nature's sweet restorer,' as he has been poetically called-with many a hard reproach embodied, of preference where fortune smiles,' and choice of 'lids unsullied with a tear.' Or contrariwise, too partial, as has been diversely thought, to poverty and toil to the 'high and giddy mast' or 'smoky crib: disdainful of kingly couches, of perfumed chambers, and canopies of state. A mighty leveller he undoubtedly is; ordained to equalize most unequal lots. No labourer's long nights of dreamless rest: the deep obliviousness of exhausted feelings, the enforced suspension of the care-worn senses, the fearless sleep of those who have nothing to lose, the unanxious sleep of those who have nothing to expect; all are the provision of a most merciful providence to alleviate the ills of life: and could these calm hours of relief be counted against the restless pursuits, the pleasurable excitement, and eager expectations of some who sleep not-Tir'd nature's sweet restorer' would be found less capricious, perhaps, than poets say: and providence would surely be found, in this, as in all things, less unequal than the exterior of existence leads us to suppose. "The sleep of the labouring man is sweet, whether he eat little or much but the abundance of the rich will not suffer him to sleep." The philosopher's riddle, as well as the poet's theme, whose deepest investigations its idiocracy has baffled, sleep has been always considered the nearest similitude to death, of any thing with which we are familiar during life and health; so much so, that the words have come to be to an extent synonymous: sleep being continually used, as in the text, when death is meant: death of both kinds: spiritual and natural. I need not dwell now upon the resemblance. It is nearer than we sometimes think, and vaguely talk about. We talk idly enough at times about endless sleep, and dreamless sleep, and everlasting sleep: but death, like sleep, is only a suspension, not a termination of existence; and it is a partial, not an entire suspension: the soul sleeps not in death as it probably sleeps not in life: something at least we know keeps watch amidst our soundest slumbers; ready to recal the senses into action at any moment. There is, however, one great difference : the entire severment of soul and body from each other to weal or woe during the period of suspension. Doubtless it has occurred to many, given to meditation like myself, while passing at night through the depopulated streets of some slumbering town, every light extinguished, every movement hushed: all still except the clocks that strike the hours: to fall into reverie about the fate of those whom the closed doors and curtained windows hide. I have thought of the weary counting of the clock to some that cannot rest; when shall I arise, and the night be gone: of the : death-bed scene, where the last stroke will very soon be heard, by many an agonized and breaking heart of scenes of pleasure, where they never hear the voice of time-and scenes of guilt that must be done ere day light, when they start at every repetition of the sound. And then, the sad security of some who should be waking, while the fire smoulders, the thief breaks through, or the murderer whets his knife. I have fancied the slumbering victims of the waking crime: the anxious watchers for the sleeper's weal: the evening draught brim full of bliss and joy, that will be found drained and empty in the morning the day-dawn of some where they little thought of, when they went to sleep till a nameless terror has stolen over my mind, only to be relieved by the prayerful recollection, that there is One to whom the windows are not closed. : : But if such be the affecting interest of one night's sleeping-time; how much more of that secrecy far closer shut, of the inner chamber where the immortal soul lies hidden: sleeping the sleep of death from which it will not wake, or waking to life whence it will never die. Within those closed shutters, every soul, from the least to the greatest, from the youngest to the eldest, is in a spiritual sense awake or asleep, alive or dead as unconsciously perhaps, as critically, and as interminably wrapt in spiritual darkness, as we have contemplated them in the night of nature: the curtains of the inner chamber closer drawn, not against others only, but themselves. By the aid of Scripture let us look through a few of these, if haply we may discover the similitude of our own state. Among the sleepers of Holy Writ, there is one so remarkable as almost certainly to occur to every body first. Jonah was asleep; nay, fast asleep, upon an act of wilful disobedience to the Lord; of settled determination not to do his will; of deliberate purpose to escape his presence. The tossing waves, the raging winds, shock after shock even to the almost disruption of the vessel, were impotent to wake him, "What meanest thou, O Sleeper?" Jonah meant nothing then he was past feeling, past fear, past everything: he had not prayed before he layed him down it does not appear that he prayed when they awoke him. The heathen mariners cried every man to such gods as they knew, and prayed finally to the God of heaven whom they knew not: but Jonah had no God but the One from whom he fled, whose notice he desired to avoid he could not pray then: he did not wish to be seen or to be heard: he knew his guilt, he knew his condemnation, he resigned himself to death, but asked no pardon. What a tremendous waking! We all know where he passed the three subsequent nights, and how he prayed: he did not slumber then. Alas! there is not a night but closes in upon many Jonahs who lay themselves down without a prayer, because they dare not say one they would rather not be seen, rather not be heard; rather be forgotten of God and overlooked for this one night at least : because they are determined upon something they know to be contrary to his mind and will: some sin they have resolved to commit: some duty they have resolved not to perform: some ungodly course they have decided not to be diverted from at present. They prayed, perhaps, half-heartedly before they came to this decision: they mean to pray hereafter when they are in a better mind: but they can say no : prayer for this night: they must lie down without, and take their chance the chance, that Jonah had of sinking ere morning into the depth whence only he has returned: the certainty of waking as prayerless and as godless as they sleep: Oh! who would brave the results of even one such sleeping-time. There is another also, whose waking we should little covet, I suppose. He was one whom the God of Israel had extraordinarily gifted, to be the champion of his cause and the deliverer of his people. He went to sleep upon the lap of pleasure: inebriate with trifling, levity and folly, and many a sufficient warning disregarded. Three times already the Philistines had been upon him; but he put to risk once more the power that God had given him for his own service; forgot whose strength it was, and for what he had it: "and wist not when he awoke, that the Lord was departed from him." Who has not slumbered as Samson slept that time: has not lain down possessed of many a gift of which they have forgotten the owner and the use: after many a warning too, as plain as Samson's, of what follows upon dallying with the enemies of God, and yielding to the temptations of a sinful world the deceit, the treachery, the triumph of those with whom we lightly waste, and put to risk the precious talents committed to our keeping? : : If we have not already known a similar waking, it is a gracious and merciful delay: for many,-very many have trifled with their talents till they woke and found them gone: with health, till they found themselves on the bed of sickness with youth, till their hairs were white with age and sorrow with wealth, till the cold hand of poverty sheared their locks. How many thoughtless ones will go to bed to-night, who will not to-morrow 66 'go out as at other times and shake themselves." In beautiful contrast with these guilty sleepers, there is one whom few could have envied when he went to rest; if rest it might be called, between two soldiers, bound with two chains: waiting the morning when Herod would have brought him forth to please the people: from the last night of imprisonment, to a cruel death. Peter slept, however, while others were awake: he had said his prayers: but they had not finished theirs; "many were gathered together praying" all that night. Thus many a trusting saint has laid himself down to rest: compassed with dangers, injuries and death: not a ray of earthly hope, not a hand held out to save-"I will lie down and sleep, for thou, O God, sustainest me:" and dreamt of no awakening but to deeper woe: no strengthening but to bear to-morrow's trial. Meantime-let others think of it when they go so to restthere may be some one praying: some loving one, some grateful one, who can do nothing else, can watch and pray. Nay, there is always One, who ceases not day and night before the throne, to renew his chalice from the golden altar, and send his incense up. Let many think of Peter when they lie down upon their couch of tears :"Sorrow may last for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." Another example will surely come to mind: the young Jacob, when he slept the first night of exile from his paternal tents: the first of retributive punishment for his falsehood, perhaps the first of penitential grief. The sun was set: he thought he was alone: alone and friendless for the first time in his life: he thought it was a houseless, desert place no hand to succour and no eye to see. Oh! there are many other such positions: many first nights of homelessness, friendlessness and separation of self-reproach, perhaps, and conscious retribution for some by-gone sin: it may be of true repentance and contrition. Was it a miserable night? "Surely the Lord was in this place and I knew it not," was the patriarch's waking exclamation. "This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven." With the bible open, and the Holy Spirit blowing where it listeth, we need not see Jacob's vision, to come to his conclusion, and do as he did: take the hard cold pillow of affliction to rear an altar of covenant with the God of mercy. "Simon, sleepest thou?"-Oh! what a night was that! There can be none other such: no second Gethsemane: no second "last Supper" with the devoted Lamb of God. But there are many sleepers like to those, whose flesh is weak-whose eyes are heavy-whose spirits are too wearily and indolently willing. Our blessed Lord's reproach is very gentle, very pitiful: nevertheless, it was no time to sleep. Jesus deeply felt his own want of sympathy in that tremendous night; his nearest slept his dearest could not watch with him "one hour." And he felt for them, in the approaching trial of their faith and love : "Arise and pray, that ye enter not into temptation." Does Jesus not always feel our slumbering love, our drowsy services, and careless selfexposure to temptations? Does he not see where the too busy day is followed by the too weary and indulgent night; whence the " one hour" sooner, or the " one hour" later, cannot be purloined for the study of his word, prayer to his Father and communion with himself: fearing for what must follow to ourselves, while he marks the cold return for so much love, the wasteful indifference to so much good, as might be enjoyed by his people upon earth? There are repetitions of his Supper now, respecting which it is said, "for this cause many are sick among you, and many sleep." "I go that I may awake him out of sleep," saith the same gracious Master. But Lazarus was dead: a sleep from which no other power could wake him: yet one word from Jesus was enough. It is a figure of the deathly slumber of the soul, from which unconscious nature never wakes, but at the Saviour's word. Spoken, written, preached, that word is the only sound that ever penetrates the tomb of earthliness and sin, wherein the immortal soul lies buried: not days, but yearsnot four, perhaps-but forty, fifty years. We have all lain there many a night; perhaps we slept so last night perhaps we shall to-night: unless we hear the same awakening voice, we must lie there eternally. If thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God." Of those who are risen again in Christ themselves, many weep nightly over the spiritual grave of some loved friend-a brother-a child, too dead asleep to pray and weep themselves. 66 'Why make ye this ado, and weep: the damsel is not dead but sleepeth," saith the same Jesus in another place. O never be repulsed: go not to rest without another prayer: leave not the loved slumberer's couch without one more appeal. Doubtless the master could have prevented this death; but that he did not, was not for want of love: in due time he came,-too late? O no! not too |