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Christ, whom he hath sent. Apart from Christ, thou canst not know nor see him with fruit and comfort, but the Gospel Revelation (which is the Revelation of God in Christ), gives thee a lovely prospect of him; his glory shines in the face of Jesus Christ.-HOWE.

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Whom have I in Heaven but Thee ?-Yea, but you will say, how might David truly demand, Whom have I in heaven but thee?" Is there none to be had in heaven but God? Are there none that walk in the streets of the celestial Jerusalem that are paved with gold? Do none dwell in those glorious tabernacles that are not made with hands? Do those twelve precious gates serve only to beautify the holy city? Do none enter in at them? Surely, if those dark and low rooms are so well filled, it is not likely that those large, fair, and lightsome upper rooms are void! The sky is not more richly decked with glistening stars, than the throne of God with celestial lights. Beyond question, there are innumerable armies of cherubim and seraphim, archangels and angels, saints and martyrs; yet the faithful soul hath none of these, or rather none of these have her, but he whom they all serve, who hath vouchsafed to make her his spouse: in none but him hath she affiance, him she serveth as her lord, obeyeth as her king, honoureth as her father, and loveth as her husband, and in this respect may truly say, "Whom have I in heaven but thee?" When Cyrus took the King of Armenia, and his son Tigranes, their wives and children, prisoners, and, upon their humble submission, gave them their lives and their liberty, on their return home, as they all began to commend Cyrus, some for his personage, some for his power, some for his clemency, Tigranes asked his wife, what thinkest thou? is he not a comely and a proper man, and of a majestic presence?

tion is from the creature, and the work of God is laid | upon it. Pleasure, profit, and honour are the natural man's trinity, and his carnal self is these in unity. It was our first sin to aspire to be as gods, and it is the greatest sin that is propagated in our nature from generation to generation. When God should guide us, we guide ourselves; when He should be our sovereign, we rule ourselves; the laws which he gave us we find fault with, and would correct, and, if we had the making of them, we would have made them otherwise; when he should take care of us, (and must, or we perish,) we will take care of ourselves; when we should depend on him in daily receivings, we had rather have our portion in our own hands; when we should submit to his providence, we usually quarrel at it, and think we could make a better disposal than God hath made; when we should study and love, trust and honour God, we study and love, trust and honour our carnal selves. Instead of God, we would have all men's eyes and dependence on us, and all men's thanks returned to us, and would gladly be the only man on earth extolled and admired by all. Thus, we are naturally our own idols. But down falls this Dagon, when God does once renew the soul. It is the chief design of that great work to bring the heart back to God himself. He convinceth the sinner that the creature can neither be his God, to make him happy, nor his Christ, to recover him from his misery, and restore him to God, who is his happiness. God does this, not only by his Word, but by providence also. This is the reason why afflic tion so frequently concurs in the work of conversion. Arguments which speak to the quick will force a hearing, when the most powerful words are slighted. If a sinner make his credit his god, and God shall cast him into the lowest disgrace, or bring him, who idolized his riches, into a condition wherein they cannot help him, or cause them to take wing and fly away, what a help is here to this work of conviction! If a man make pleasure his god, whatsoever a roving eye, curious ear, a greedy appetite, or a lustful heart could desire, and God should take these from him, or turn them into gall or wormwood, what a help is here to conviction! When God shall cast a man into languishing sickness, and inflict wounds on his heart, and stir up against him his own conscience, and then, as it were, say to him, Try if your credit, riches or pleasure can help you. Can they heal your wounded conscience? Can they now support your tottering tabernacles? Can they On the Efficacy of Affliction.-Many who have waitkeep your departing soul in your body, or save you ed year after year on the preaching of the word; who from mine everlasting wrath, or redeem your soul from have looked on communion after communion, whilə eternal flames? Cry aloud to them, and see now whethe blessed symbols of redemption have been distributther these will be to you instead of God and Christ." ed among the faithful, who have gone away from these O how this works now with the sinner! Sense acknow-holy things with minds uninstructed and unmoved, ledges the truth, and even the flesh is convinced of the creature's vanity, and our very deceiver is undeceived. -BAXTER.

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Where is Satisfaction to be found?-The hungry craving soul that would fain be happy, but knows not how, need not spend its days in making uncertain guesses and fruitless attempts and trials: It may fix its hovering thoughts, and upon assurance here given, say, I have now found at last where satisfaction may be had; and have only this to do, to bend all my powers hither, and intend this one thing, the possessing myself of this blessed rest; earnestly to endeavour and patiently to wait for it. Happy discovery! Welcome tidings! I now know which way to turn my eye and direct my pursuit. I shall no longer spend myself in dubious, toilsome wanderings, in anxious vain inquiry: I have found, I have found! blessedness is here. If I can but get a lively, efficacious sight of God, I have enough,-shew me the Father and it sufficeth. Let the weary wandering soul bethink itself and return to God. He will not mock thee with shadows as the world hath done. This is eternal life, to know him, the only true God, and Jesus

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Truly," said she, "I know not what manner of man he is, for I never looked on him!" "What!" inquired he, " where were thine eyes all the while? Upon whom didst thou then look?" "I fixed my eyes," said she, "all the while upon him (meaning her husband,) who, in my hearing, offered to Cyrus to lay down his life for my ransom!" In like manner, if any question the devout soul, whether she be not captivated with the cherubim and seraphim, angels, or saints, her answer will be, that she scarcely ever cast a look on them, because her eyes were never off him, who not only offered, but laid down his life for her, and ransomed her with his own blood.-FEATLEY.

many

whom the fetters of inattention have bound; in whom
every power and sensibility has been benumbed," who
have had ears, but heard not; eyes, but saw not;
such have often experienced, how effectually even a
single visitation of calamity becomes the means of dis-
solving the bands of this sinful torpor. How often has
the threatening of death served to cast the light of such
a convincing commentary on the doctrines of repent-
ance and faith, as not even the highest eloquence of
human illustration could ever elicit. And attendance
on a sick-bed, and the sight of an expiring friend, and
the hearing of those last breathings of Christian faith,
which raise the departing soul above even the mortal
struggle; those words which would soften the grief of
separation, by expressing the sad hope of the meeting
hereafter; how often have these brought religion for-
ward to the most careless eye, in all its native import-
ance and solemnity. What an incalculable power does
the call to repentance, and the proposal of mercy re-
ceive, when the near view of the eternal world teaches
the need of divine forgiveness, and the value of divine
favour.-MUIR,

SACRED POETRY.

A MOTHER'S DEATH.

BY THE REV. STEVENSON M'GILL, D. D., Professor of Theology, University of Glasgow. FAR from each busy scene, I meditate,

Sad, yet not sorrowing, on the hour of deathThe death of thee, my parent, lost so late

Thy death so sweeten'd by thy Christian faith! And thee, O world! I gladly leave behind,

To seek retirement's calm and silent road; Sublimer thoughts engage my chastened mind;

And, from the grave, my soul ascends to GodAscends through Him, on whom I place my trust,

Who heals the wound by which my heart was torn ;
And, while my tears fall o'er my Mother's dust,

My mind is soothed-I weep-but do not mourn.
Yes-sweet the thoughts which fill my glist'ning eye;
Soft as the dew-drops are the tears I shed;
And, while I feel affection's broken tie,

I love to think on the departed dead.

No anguish'd thought attends my Mother's grave;
Past days remind me only of her love;
And, through her faith in Him who came to save,
I see her now among the bless'd above.
And with her there, I hope my Lord to join,

Free from my griefs and all my worldly cares;
Her hope, her path, her portion, shall be mine;
Nor vain for me shall be her dying prayers.
She was through life my fond but faithful friend;
More than myself, she felt my griefs and joys;
Yet still she kept before me life's great end-
The Christian's calling, and the Christian's prize.
Lofty, though tender, was her virtuous mind;

Upright and generous, candid as the day;
True while she loved, unflattering while kind-
To noblest aims she pointed still my way.
In youth's sweet days she heard her Saviour's voice;
With deep devotion gave herself to God;
Through chequer'd life, felt still religion's joys;
Through good and ill, still held the heavenly road.
Her course was long-in peace she saw its end,

And look'd beyond the vale with lively faith;
She saw the glory of the promised land,

And feared no evil in the shades of death.

Low in the grave I laid her honour'd head,
And thought of all the scenes thro' which she pass'd;
The young and aged number'd with the dead-

The valued friends with whom I once was bless'd.

I felt myself a stranger on the earth;

Saw Jordan's gloomy waves before me rollEternal things in all their speechless worth

And solemn grandeur, rose before my soul. Prostrate I fell before the sacred throne;

With humble prayer, renewed my sacred vows; And, trusting in my Saviour's grace alone,

Look'd to the mansions of my Father's house. And now I love the calm and silent shade;

To rise in faith beyond the bounds of time;
With softened heart, to think upon the dead,
And elevate my soul in thoughts sublime.
Yet, while I see the wond'rous ages roll,

The plan of grace fulfilling all its ends;
With every scene which rises on my soul,
I see the forms of my DEPArted friends.
The weary traveller in a trackless land,

The sea-toss'd mariners where'er they roam,
Think of the country where their wanderings end,
And see their friends in every thought of home.

MISCELLANEOUS.

Submission to the will of God.-Fenelon, Archbishop of Cambray, when his illustrious pupil, the Duke of Burgundy, lay dead in his coffin, and the nobles of his court, in all the pomp of silent sadness, stood weeping around, came into the room, and fixing his eyes on the corpse, broke out in these words: "There lies my beloved prince, for whom I had the affection of the tenderest parent; nor was my affection lost-he loved me with the ardour of a son! There he lies, and all my worldly happiness lies dead with him; but, if the turning of a straw would call him back to life, I would not, for ten thousand worlds, be the turner of that straw, in opposition to the will of God."

Providential Escape.-There was a small court between St Antholin's Church, and that part of the rectory-manse, in which the late Henry Venn's father's study was situated. This had been roofed and tiled over; and here he used to play, when he was able to say his lessons, till his father was at leisure to hear him. One day, being perfect in his lesson, he, as usual, asked leave to play, but was refused; as this leave had rarely before been denied, and his father did not appear to be at leisure to hear him, he concluded that his request had been misunderstood, and again asked permission to play, but was immediately and peremptorily refused. Soon after, his mother came into the room, and seeing him looking out of the window, while his father appeared deeply engaged in writing, she asked, of her own accord, whether he might not be allowed to play, but her request was also refused. She thought this extraordinary, but her surprise was changed into astonishment and gratitude, when, a few minutes after, the whole roof fell in, and would have crushed her child to death, had he been playing there, as was requested. His father acknowledged that he had no particular reason, at the noment, for denying the wonted permission, but, having once refused, thought it proper to persist in the refusal.

"In coun

Danger of Daubing with Untempered Mortar.-In a very interesting and instructive little work, entitled, "African Light," published by Waugh and Innes, Edinburgh, the author, Mr Campbell, the South African traveller, gives the following illustration of Ezek. xiii. 10 and 11, where the prophet speaks of the danger arising from daubing with untempered mortar. tries destitute of coal, bricks are only either sun-dried, or very slightly burnt with bushes and branches of trees, laid over them and set on fire. Such are ready to moulder if exposed to moisture, and entirely to melt away if exposed to heavy rain dashing against them. To prevent such a catastrophe, all the houses in the Cape colony are daubed, or plastered, over with fine mortar, made from ground sea-shells. Should only a small hole remain unnoticed in the plaster, a powerful rain will get into it, and probably soon be the destruction of the whole building. Well do I remember one deluge of rain that turned a new house of three floors absolutely into a mass of rubbish, and brought down the gable of a parish church, besides injuring many other buildings."

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THE

SCOTTISH CHRISTIAN
CHRISTIAN HERALD,

CONDUCTED UNDER THE SUPERINTENDENCE OF MINISTERS AND MEMBERS OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.

"THE FEAR of the lord, THAT IS WISDOM."

VOL. I. No. 22.

SATURDAY, JULY 30, 1836.

ON THE CHOICE OF COMPANIONS.
BY THE REV. ALEXANDER LEITH ROSS FOOTE,
One of the Ministers of Brechin.

PRICE 1d.

differ from mere acquaintances, with whom we have intercourse only in the way of business, or in the occasional courtesies of life. The former are higher in our friendship; they are more intimate, less numerous. We have, in general, many acquaintances, but, comparatively, few companions. Intimate friendship will not extend over a large

rous portions. Thus we see that companionship has its foundation in nature. It is natural for us to have companions. There is, perhaps, no one who has not companions, or who does not desire to have them. You cannot fail to have observed how the truth of this is exemplified in the young; how early and invariably they choose companions whom they love as brothers. The tendency, in fact, requires to be checked rather than excited. Companionship is found to be one of the grand charms of human existence in all ages and in all circumstances.

We believe all enquirers into the nature of man, agree in assigning to him this quality, that he is a social being. There may, indeed, be a few mis-surface,-it will not divide into small and numeanthropes, a few selfish beings, who dislike and shun human intercourse. You do not admire such unamiable characters; you pity them as destitute of the finer feelings of humanity, or as doing violence to them, but you do not suffer these exceptions to shake your confidence in what seems to be, on the whole, a general law of our nature. It is this principle that brings men together into communities, more or less large, according to circumstances, and continues to keep them together. It may be said, perhaps, that necessity, more than choice, is the foundation of human society, as we are so dependent on each other, that we could not live in solitude, even if we would, and that we must live in society, even though contrary to our inclination. This is, indeed, so far true; necessity, our natural wants and weakness, and our natural dependence, thence resulting, have no small share in constituting and preserving human society. But we deny that it is the sole or even chief foundation of it. We maintain that though each individual had within himself resources for his subsistence, he would be wretched in solitude; that, though placed in the choicest spot imagination ever conceived, though the sun ever shone upon him, and balmiest gales ever fanned him, and though for him nature poured spontaneously from her lap the richest of her fruits, he would still sigh for the intercourse of his fellows, and seek it, not from necessity but from choice.

Not only, however, does this principle lead to the formation of society in general, but of the more intimate connections that exist in it. It is this principle, to come nearer our present topic, that leads to companionship, which is the selection, from the mass of society, of a few individuals whose company we more highly relish, and more frequently resort to,-in whom we place greater confidence; between whom and us there exists a closer identity of feeling and pursuit. Companions

And here we feel ourselves bound to pause and acknowledge the goodness of our Creator in conferring upon us this tendency, which so much enlarges the sphere of our enjoyment and improvement. In this as in every other part of the constitution of our nature and of the world around us, we see that "he is good and doeth good." And being thus constituted, it is evident that it is not only natural for us to have companions, but lawful; and not only lawful, but a duty. When good companions are to be obtained, it is a positive duty to resort to them, because we may be quite sure the beneficent Author of our constitution would not have conferred upon us a tendency which could answer no good end.

It is time, however, after these general remarks, to proceed to the illustration of the influence which companions exert over one's character. It is the declaration of the wise man, that "he that walketh with wise men shall be wise, but the companion of fools shall be destroyed," and, like every other Scripture statement, it is consistent with universal experience; so much so, that you are irresistibly led to form an opinion of a man from the company he keeps; either, you suspect he is already like them, or he is in a fair way of becoming so, and you are generally right. This influence arises from a well known principle of our na

ture, that of imitation; a principle that exerts a mighty influence over us, and of the power of which, it is well for us to be fully aware. There is, perhaps, no other principle that contributes more largely to form individual character than this. Most men are, in a great' measure, what they are, in opinions, pursuits, and manners, through the power of imitation.

to do so. Many can trace their first religious impressions, and much of their subsequent improvements, to this source.

But we must turn to another and less pleasing topic, the influence of evil companions :-"A companion of fools shall be destroyed." It is awful, it is humiliating to think that the process of assimilation goes on more rapidly in this than in the former case, owing to the depravity of the heart. We are much more easily corrupted by bad example, than improved by good. How soon is the youth, whose principles seemed firmest, and whose conduct raised him above all suspicion, corrupted, irretrievably corrupted, by evil company! Alas! it requires no effort of fancy to conceive a case in illustration of this. The youth was educat

It is indeed true, that imitation alone will not account for every peculiarity of character. Men will not imitate that for which they have no natural taste or capability. If we had not a natural tendency to evil, we would not, at so early a period, so rashly imitate evil example. The grand outlines of human character are anterior to an external influence. But then the principle of imitation wonderfully contributes to develope it, and ined in the knowledge of the truth; he was taught to various ways to mould it. Now, it is obvious that the principle of imitation will operate in forming character according to the nature of the object we are conversant with; and it will hold equally true, and for the same reason, that "he that walketh with wise men shall be wise, but the companion of fools shall be destroyed," shall acquire their character and share in their end.

lisp the language of devotion; he saw a copy of every thing that was good, and sober, and industrious, in his parents; he grew up for a while a comfort and an honour to them, and if any one could have been depended upon, it was he. But O! ye parents, be not too sanguine as to the future conduct of your children. How shall I be able to tell the heart-rending sequel of his history! He had We may illustrate, first, the influence of good to leave the domestic circle, and go forth into the companions. "He that walketh with wise men world. He met with those who "have no fear of shall be wise." This is true in reference to natural God before their eyes." They laughed at his rewisdom, or the knowledge of the affairs of life and ligious scruples, and gloried in their own freedom the phenomena of nature. He who frequents the from restraint. At first, it may be, he was shockcompany of men of business, of literature, or of ed, and shunned them. But gradually he resortscience, will gradually and imperceptibly assimi-ed to them, and at last joined himself to their late to them. His mind, being directed frequently to a particular subject of enquiry, will acquire a relish for it, and much information regarding it. His genius will be checked, his judgment sharpened, his energy and his ambition stimulated by the friendly collision of conversation, and the spirit-stirring influence of emulation. "For, as iron sharpeneth iron, so doth the countenance of a man his friend." This is true also in reference to spiritual wisdom, or the knowledge, love, and practice of Religion. This is the best, we may say, the only real wisdom. "The Jews require a sign, and the Greeks seek after wisdom, but we preach Christ, the power of God, and the wisdom of God." The best wisdom, compared with this, is folly. He cannot be termed a wise man who neglects it; he is not wise for himself; he is not wise for eternity; he is not wise toward God. He, then, who frequents the company of the holy, the religiously wise, the pious, the devoted, the spiritual, will have his understanding enlightened, his heart inspired, his good inclinations strengthened. He will be induced, perhaps imperceptibly, to choose the right path, and encouraged and directed to walk in it. Thus do wise and good companions strengthen each others hands, especially in times of abounding iniquity ;-" Then they that feared the Lord spake often one to another." It is too true, that having no natural inclination to what is good, the continued society of the best will not change the heart. But it is fitted to do so, and, in fact, is often employed by the Spirit

company. His parents, ever anxious about his welfare, and regular in their enquiries after him, heard of his situation; instinctively they dreaded the fatal result; warned him of his danger; expostulated with him; threatened him; wept and prayed for him. But in vain, he heeded not; he was already under the baleful attraction; he went on from bad to worse, till he surpassed in wickedness the most wicked of his companions. And what is he now? His own wickedness hath taken hold of him; he is holden with the cords of his sins; in the greatness of his folly he hath gone astray, and, unless grace prevents, he shall die without instruction; and Oh, in the place of misery, how shall he upbraid those wicked companions who led him astray, and how shall they upbraid him with his folly in listening to them! Has such a case never been exemplified? we all know that it has; and if such be the influence which companionship exerts over the character, we cannot do better than afford some advices as to the choice of companions.

1. Be anxious to obtain good companions. If you are so placed, in the course of providence, that you cannot safely, or so fully as you could wish, exercise this beautiful tendency of our nature, it is better you should refrain from doing so, than risk your real good. But if you are more favourably situated, consider it your duty to do so, and if you do not, remember that you are thwarting a benevolent design of your Maker, and attribute this backwardness to a certain sel

fishness in your nature, which you should endea- | there any whose consciences whisper that their

your to overcome.

companions are not what they should be? as they regard the divine authority, and their own souls' good, let them part with them at once and for ever. The sooner it is done, and the more decidedly it is done, the better. If they act a firm part, they will be troubled with their solicitations no more. "Jesus saith, Get thee hence, Satan: then the devil leaveth him"-ashamed, afraid. You are not ashamed, you are not afraid to choose your own views in politics, and to separate yourselves from your nearest friends, and join your political party; then, why not shew the same determination in the choice of your religious views and your religious society? Wherefore, come out from among them, and be ye separate."

5. Do not trust to your own wisdom in the choice of companions. You should ask the advice of others, especially of your parents. It is one of the many duties incumbent on parents to assist their children in the choice of companions, and if they are not satisfied with the character of their associates, they should use the last exertion of their authority to part them, and their children should immediately comply. Above all, they should ask counsel of God, who knows the hearts of all men. He has promised to direct his people in this, as in every other matter, and he will do it. 6. When you have obtained good companions,

2. Exercise much caution in the choice of companions. Be not too hasty. In youth the heart is unsuspecting, and warm, sudden, violent in its attachments. This is the cause of much evil. They, who would corrupt them, know this, and basely take advantage of it. Do not, then, make one a friend, a companion, in the first moment of acquaintance, nor for some considerable time. Let the awful consequences of a wrong choice teach caution, extreme caution. There is, indeed, something very beautiful and interesting in the open-hearted, unsuspecting youth, who, as yet a stranger to the deep treachery of the world, would embrace every one as a friend; but we cannot look upon him, at the same time, without alarm, when we think how soon he may become a prey to the seducer. Be cautions, therefore. 3. Exercise much discrimination in the choice of companions. Do not choose them because their manners are engaging; because they are high in rank; because they are rich; because they can minister to your gratification. Study well their religious character. Let them be select, though they should be few; let them be pious, though they should be neither rich, nor accomplished, nor great. Let them be such as will improve your understanding and heart; such as fear God, love Jesus, reverence the Sabbath and Sanc-esteem them, and remain steady to them. You tuary, and hate all ill. Do not confine your choice of companions to those of your own age; rather--for those of your own age are not always the safest guides-choose those of maturer age, maturer wisdom, maturer piety. This is an important point, and a further illustration of it may not be unnecessary. We are under great temptation to frequent the company of those who are enthusiastically devoted to the same pursuit or amusement as ourselves, though we know them to be, in other respects, very unworthy of our countenance. Illustrations of this are too nume rous to be all mentioned. We may be permitted, as an instance, to advert to what is a very favourite pursuit with some-music. We do not look for the sympathy of those who are "born deaf as the dead to harmony"—their temptations will come from some other quarter-but the love of music has led many a young man into the society of those who have deeply injured his moral principles.

4. Exercise much decision in the choice of companions. It is for want of this that so many are led astray. They have not courage to resist the solicitations of wicked enticers, and to give up their friendship when their consciences whisper that they ought. Away, then, with this timidity, and say, with the determination of the Psalmist, "Depart from me, ye evil doers, for I will keep the commandments of my God." It requires, we admit, no small resolution to reject the companionship of those of the same age, the same profession, the same neighbourhood, and who press almost imperceptibly into our friendship; but, in the divine strength it may be done. Are

cannot expect their friendship, if you withhold
yours. "He that hath friends, must shew him-
self friendly." Every trifling difference should
not cool your mutual love. Do not expect too
much. If companions agree in more important
points, it is quite unreasonable to expect they
should agree in every thing. You must learn to
bear with each other. Interpret favourably each
others conduct. Let not jealousy find a place
in your hearts, for it will magnify every little to-
pic of distrust. Let not the envy and malice of
others separate you.
Give no ear to the back-
biter, who would poison you with false reports of
your friend's character. If you lightly abandon
the friendship of any one, you cannot reasonably
expect to be admitted into the undoubting friend-
ship of others. Listen to the advice of friends,
though it should be somewhat humiliating to you.
"Faithful are the wounds of a friend."
not your friends in time of need. "A friend
loveth at all times, and a brother is born for ad-
versity." "Thine own friend, and thy father's
friend, forsake not."

"The friends thou hast, and their adoption proved,
Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel."

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF

MRS ANN H. JUDSON.
Concluded from page 327.

Desert

THE 30th of April 1819, was a memorable day in the history of the Burman mission, for on that day Moung Nau, the first convert, made his first visit to the zayat. He was silent and reserved, and excited little attention. But he persevered in his visits, evidently

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