get as much good at home as by attendance upon divine worship. But let us ask him if he believes in the efficacy of prayer, in the profit of reading the Scriptures, in the need of religious meditation and devotion? and does he, when he absents himself and family from the place of public worship, spend the day religiously in such services? Again we say, let his own conscience judge him, and if he does none of these things, let him hide his plea in shame and be silent. Besides, if he has so far cultivated these services as to need no religious instructor and guide, let him be a teacher and example to his feebler brethren who need his influence and assistance.

But, says another, "religion does not consist in these things-many persons attend public worship influenced by wrong motives. I look to a moral and upright life for my testimony; practical religion is the great need of the timeintegrity in business, fidelity to trusts, a regard for the truth, candid and unprejudiced judgment, and a due respect for the privileges and rights of others; this is my idea of religion." But let us ask him, where did he get his idea of religion? And what is the foundation of it? What is the incentive to practical religion, as he calls it? True religion springs from the heart and affec tions; from the worship and reverence of God, and the study of his holy word; from prayer and meditation, from a desire to obey his commands; and he has said, "Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy;" this is one religious duty, and he ought not to leave it undone. Nay, it is the very appointed means of practical religion. He must be diligent and faithful in business, but he must also serve the Lord; nay, if he refuse to serve the Lord thus, there is great reason to fear he will fail in his integrity and practice; he may have a good worldly policy, and may understand expediency, and propriety, and prudence, and consistency; he may have a regard for the world's opinion and reputation, may never transgress the laws of the land, the usages of trade, or trample upon the strict rights of others; he may be as honest as his neighbors, and pay his just debts, and speak the truth; and yet for all this, he may be without religion, "without God in the world." He may have no worship except for mammon; no grace or charity; and no love except for a name or station, for wealth and things which perish in the using. He may be shrewd and selfish, worldly and avaricious. This is not practical religion, nor morality. It is only the semblance and shadow of it, only a re

fined craftiness, or decent selfishness, and external propriety, a seeming respectability. Let no man think to put these things instead of heart religion, and let him begin his religious life by remembering the Sabbath day to keep it holy.

But, says another class of objectors, I see no reason why one day of a week should be singled out and called holy, why an hour on Sunday is any more sanctified than an hour on any other day. I hold it to be superstitious to make such a distinction. I consult my feelings in regard to the day. Nobody can oblige me to attend public worship or contribute to it; churches are sustained on the voluntary principle, and I am free to do as I elect in this matter. I don't believe in rites and forms and ceremonies; all days are alike. I am no professor of religion, and I am not a member of the Church. I go to hear different denominations of preachers, and I don't believe in a hired ministry, and I don't see that church-goers are any better than I am.—It is painful to believe there are any persons in a community like ours, ready to urge such objections, but those words are current and familiar to the ears of most of us. Who singled out one day of seven to hallow it? The Sabbath is not of man's institution; it was made for man, not by him. Is there indeed no distinction of hours and seasons in life? No difference in the sacredness of grief and the hilarity of recreation? no difference in the lonely hours of sickness and pain and the hours of frivolity and ease? no difference in the hour of sleep and the hour of death? And he who ordained sorrow and sickness and death, ordained and set apart the Sabbath also, and in his wisdom has commanded that some seasons of life shall be hallowed and more sacred than others. Superstition is a far different thing from veneration and worship, and our objector is likely to have neither. And if he would bring up the morality of his daily and weekly life to the standard of the Sabbath, instead of degrading the holy day to the level of his worldly life, he would begin by remembering the Sabbath to keep it holy. There is no compulsion to observe the day but the compulsion of truth and his conscience; and as for forms, his daily life is full of them; and "if he will have nothing to do with religion, religion will have something to do with him." He cannot live and escape his obligations; they are imposed upon him by an omnipotent Power, and till he can sever his acts from their consequences, he cannot disobey the laws of God with impunity. He is, in this respect, the subject of an absolute

monarchy, and he cannot stay the hand of the Almighty; he has no choice; he is not free; there is no alternative for him; obedience is the law of his being, his necessity and dignity, his duty and privilege, his only peace and blessedness, and his true liberty and glory.

The uses of the Christian Sabbath are too many and various to be enumerated in the brief time now allotted, but we cannot withhold the expression of our opinion that it is the great instrument and means of the moral, social and religious condition of the Christian world; that it is with many the only season of spiritual culture; that it is the safeguard and bulwark of our virtue, the guide and incentive to purity of life and devotion; the birth-day of great and ennobling thoughts and resolves, and an indispensable and ordained institution for Christianizing and saving the world; and in the words of an infidel we believe, that "if the Sabbath were abolished, the Bible would become a useless book, and we should hasten back to barbarism."

Submitted in Christian love and fellowship,
C. L. GORDON, Chairman.

Brooklyn, N. Y., May 28, 1851.

TO MY GODCHILD, ALICE.

ALICE, Alice, little Alice,
My new-christened baby Alice !

Can there ever rhyme be found
To express my wishes for thee
In a silvery flowing, worthy

Of that silvery sound?
Bonnie Alice, Lady Alice!

Sure that sweetest name must be

A true omen to thee, Alice,
Of a life's long melody.

Alice, Alice, little Alice,
Mayst thou prove a golden chalice
Filled with holiness, like wine;
With rich blessings running o'er,
Yet replenished evermore

From a fount divine!
Alice, Alice, little Alice,

When this future comes to thee, In thy young life's brimming chalice Keep some drops of balm for me!

Alice, Alice, little Alice,
Mayst thou grow up a fair palace,

Fitly framed from roof to floor,

Pure unto the very centre,
While high thoughts like angels enter
At the open door.

Alice, Alice, little Alice,

When this goodly sight I see, In thy woman-heart's rich palace Keep one nook of love for me!

Alice, Alice, little Alice,

Sure the verse fails out of malice

To the thoughts it feebly bears; And thy name's sweet echoes, ranging From quaint rhyme to rhyme, are changing Unto voiceless prayers.

God be with thee, little Alice!

Of his bounteousness, may he Fill the chalice, build the palace, Here-unto eternity!

[English paper.

"AS ONE WHOM HIS MOTHER COMFORTETH."

A SERMON Written on the death of Mrs. MARY TOMPKINS, who died in Boston, Mass., Jan, 7th, 1852, aged 63 years.

BY HENRY BACON.

ISAI. lxvi. 13: As one whom his mother comforteth, so will I comfort you.

GOD is very compassionate in using the tenderest names to encourage our trust in him. If we will read the Bible thoroughly for this pur pose, we shall discover a gradation of names which God has identified with himself, that range from inanimate things up through all the variety of objects that suggest pleasant associations, till we find Him employing the comparison of the text, "As one whom his mother comforteth, so will I comfort you."

What a tenderness seems inevitably connected with the idea of a Mother performing the part of a Comforter! She comes with nature's prerogative to enter into our most secret soul, to penetrate to every avenue of feeling, and to pour the refreshing word where no other hand can reach. To dwell on this theme may give us aid to value the Ministry of the Living Mother, and to go to God at once when she is no more.

The text implies that there is something pecu liar in the comfort which a Mother bestows. It is GoD who speaks. The word is, "As one whom his mother comforteth, so will I comfort you,"-I, the Almighty, the supreme controller

of the hearts and ways of men, and who bendeth my providence above them in all minuteness and breadth. I, that made the Mother's heart, that poured its infinite wealth of affection, that gave its endurance, and made it overflow with tenderness and love. I, that am the Remover, that taketh away "lover and friend," that transfereth the smile of the mortal face to the countenance of the immortal. 1, that knoweth it is simple nature to weep over the severed ties of years, to feel the shudder that comes when the loved form is given to the tomb, and remembereth that faith, with all its visions, is

open and open like the glory of the heavens to the telescope, showing new depths of beauty, and winning us more and more to contemplation and study. It may be God meant no more in the text than an allusion to maternal affection. It may be He meant ten thousand times more. It may be he would have the comparison before us illuminated by all the experience which life affords of a Mother's love-by the lights which are lit above her grave where memory is so strangely quickened and the strong man is a child again-by all the mournful thoughts that come when we think of the offices no other be

If we would appreciate the kindness of God, we should ask ourselves some such question as this;-What is there peculiar in the comfort which a Mother betows? What is she to us that she should be thus singled out? How is she the image of God? These questions I will attempt to answer, for the preciousness of a comparison is enhanced as we magnify the basis on which it is made.

But here let me say, I own it may be that nothing more was meant in the text than the awakening of the common reverence towards the Mother, and letting that speak of the compassions of God. If we go no farther than this, we have something very beautiful. There is a world of feeling connected with filial love that lives unexpressed. The word Mother sounds a deep that analysis never reached. There is an infinity in the heart that no philosophy can fathom; and it may be that all the text intends is to send the great thought of God, of his love, into that infinity, as light plays around the circles when the lake is moved and the eddying waters sparkle in silver rings. If this be all, it is a great all-a vast good-a beautiful prophecy of the tenderness of that Religion which was to come, and which has come, in and through Christ Jesus.

And yet a great thought-a tender and beautiful idea dropped from the speech of the Highest, should not be put away hastily as though its depths were sounded by the first glance, and as though it would be profane to imagine that God meant the best things we can draw from that word. There is a greater danger of mak ing God's expression of his love mean too little, than too much. That many significations should not be given to the same expression, or passage, is a rule of right interpretation; but it is quite another thing to dwell on a thought and see it

There is no danger of humanizing God by this process. O no! If there be any thing we can comprehend of the celestial and divine-any thing that is pure as the light that flashes from the wings of a seraph, it is Maternal Love. It is something that preceded our birth; that marked every step of our infant progress; that entered instinctively into our inmost experience; that was of unquestionable disinterestedness and integrity, tenderly apologetical of our faults, holily hopeful, the Image of Eternity. If the glory of God shone in the face of Christ, it shone also in his mother's face. The thoughts that have been given to Mary have made the heart more worshipful towards Jesus. And one thing I have marked in all history, and that is, that just in proportion to the real greatness of a man, his power to search into the heart and soul of things, has been the recognition of the greatness of the Mother's Love. It is the sure token of a small mind, of narrowness of thought, of littleness of soul, where there is no greatness of thought about the Mother. The histories of the wise and good are the histories of the reciprocation of the mother's love. That is the key to the secret of the spiritual force that impelled to greatness and glory.

At least, it will be an innocent indulgence to give the most enlarged meaning to our text, and look into the peculiarities of the comfort which a Mother bestows on her afflicted child. As a Mother comforts, so will I, says the adorable Jehovah. It is a word of celestial music, and may linger like the Christmas Chimes of our childhood that win us from the desolations of other years. It is a word we need; for when the dying and the dead are around us, our refuge of strength and very present help in trouble" is the Sovereignty of God. "He doeth all things well." But there is a winning charm cast over the thought of Divine Sovereignty by the idea,

that he has the love that will comfort as a mother; and we are affected by the union as when the mellow rays of the sunset cast their beauty over the awful grandeur of the mountains.

What then is peculiar in the Comfort a Mother bestows? How shall I speak of this peculiarity? I attempt an answer by saying,

First, Her comforting is the comforting of one who loved us ere we saw the light of day. Her anxieties went before our birth, and nearer to her heart have we lain than to the heart of any other. And such is the love of God. right when we sing,—

We sing

"Before these beating hearts did move,

Thy tender mercies us pursued."

We think too little of this. We think too little of the love that went before our being-that was expressed in purposes-that was manifested as the love of God for Adam by the arrangements in Eden ere the form was moulded. I heard the prayer of a preacher criticised a while since, because he thanked God for mercies bestowed before we were born. "I could not tell what he ineant," said the critical hearer. But the preacher had read the like idea in his Bible, where the far reaching mercies of God are celebrated, and where, written as it were in a book, the order to be developed from unfashioned materials, is remembered to the glory of God, by whom we were fearfully and wonderfully made. Psalm cxxxix. 14-16. Beautiful is the love of the Creator shown in that love that precedes our existence; that dwells upon the object to be given; that makes life more sacred because of a life within life. When He comforteth as a Mother comforts her child, it is the comfort of a love that discerned the coming of our being and compassed the issues thereof. Why should we ever doubt the continuance of that tenderness, or the wisdom and goodness of all the changes he permits and the discipline he calls us to endure? Does not that love foreshadow the Future?

But again; The comfort which a Mother bestows is the comfort of One who knows us better than any other. He that traces a river from the little tiny spring where its waters first originate, can tell you best of what it is. He has become familiar with its feebleness and its gradual growth into strength and power. Its whole development lies open to his view in the map which his memory keeps of it, not to be rivaled by the pencil of the artist. So a Mother and the growth of a child, its real being-that being | which survives the waste of the body and the

passing away of all the flesh that bore the smiles and grace of infancy. As by intuition, she reads what is but mystery to others; and where others marvel at some turn in the life of the man, she only thinks of the prophecy that pointed to that result years ago. Like Mary she keeps all the little mysteries of the young soul, and ponders them in her heart, trusting to the interpretations of the future. "What thou knowest not now, thou shalt know hereafter," is to her a perpetual assurance in reference to her child, and thus she learns to know him better than any other. When we thoroughly'know a person, and are in daily and hourly contact with him, we influence that person more than we are aware of; spirit conforms to spirit; temper moulds temper; and character acts on character. So with the Mother and her Child. Talent flows in the Female line rather than that of the Male. The history of the wise and good is really, as I have said, the history of their MothBeautiful and touching are many stories of the impoverished mother who has kept her soul rich, and by the influence of her nobility of heart, has breathed into her children the energy of an aspiring life. She knew them better than others. The lowly garb was nothing. soul looked into theirs; and when the successes of the future showed the advances of the virtues of the son, the graces of the daughter, others might express surprise, but she felt none. It was but her expectation.

ers.

Her

As on the bosom of th' aerial lawn

Melts in dim haze each coarse ungentle hue. Thou know'st our bitterness-our joys are thineNo stranger thou to all our wanderings wild; Nor could we bear to think, how every line

Of us, thy darkened likeness and defiled, Stands in full sunshine of thy piercing eye,

But that thou call'st us children sweet repose Is in that word-the Lord who dwells on high Knows all, yet loves us letter than he knows."

The comfort which a Mother bestows is the comfort of one who not only loved us the earliest and knows us best, but who with this love and knowlege marked our infant steps and entered instinctively into our inmost experience. Her history abounds with instances of that springing at once to the motive that sways the will, which the Grecian mother illustrated when her babe was near the precipice and reaching to pluck the flower where death must come should the act be accomplished. So the comforts of God transcend the ordinary means of soul communing with soul. There is something mystical and strange in the swaying of the will which comes of God when we know only the beautiful result. We are won, and that is all we know. As one whom his mother comforteth, so God comforts the soul, carrying it into a higher realm than that of reason and logic, and strengthening it by an interfusion of soul more subtle than light, and as unreachable by analysis in respect to its essence and origin.

Yet farther; A mother's comfort flows from one of unquestionable disinterestedness and integrity. There is no questioning as to the why

and wherefore of a mother's comfort. It is the action of simple nature. It is not obedience to a form. It has nothing to do with ceremonials. It comes not oppressively with words of usage and custom, of eulogy and commiseration, or with a compassion that is soon to die away. It may be silent and still, but out of that silence and stillness will come a wondrous strength, as from God to the soul in meditative prayer, or when the Saint is lifting the face quietly to the Night, and from her urns of coolness drinking repose. So with the love of God. It is no matter of contingences. It is not to be bought. It is not so much for so much. It is the action of his own essential nature. "Not that we loved God, but that He first loved us." "We have

known and believed the love that God hath to us." "Keep yourselves in the love of God." Sometimes it would seem that there was no such

love in God. Theologians make his love so much a legal matter, a matter of diplomacy, a thing of embassy. Christians are sometimes bewildered and cannot say whether God loves them or not, because it is such a thing of conditions, and the conditions are so mystical. The comforting love of a Mother ought to help them to faith in Divine Love. There is disinterested love-love that was spontaneous-that answered to the demands of nature,-nature in her silence, looking up so pitifully from the face of the infant; nature in her eloquent pleading, where guilt turns away every heart but the mother's from her son.

And here comes to my thought the last comfort which a Mother bestows comes from one parison upon which I shall venture: The comwho is pre-eminently pitiful-tenderly apologetical of our faults, holily hopeful, the Image of Eternity. So is the comfort of God. Too often is this forgotten, and God made but a stern Taskmaster. How just He is, how inflexible in not, by any means, clearing the guilty from retribution for sin, is made plain enough; but men forget that he keepeth mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity, transgression and sin." "If any man lack wisdom, let him ask of God, who giveth to all men liberally and upbraideth not." That is the tenderness of God,-upbraidings are laid aside for the encouragements that will inspire to new struggles for good. The Bible is rich with God's tender judgments of man, "winking at times of ignorance," and taking the part of the scorned and despised as having a portion in his love and the greatness of the redemption in Christ. In our sorrow, our Mother comes not to plunge the barbed arrow further into our heart--to make us hate ourselves the more-to magnify our short comings, and to dash out our little hope. She comes as a strong nature to support a weak. To make us feel the presence of hope, effort, endurance, success. In our humiliation we slide back to the feebleness and dependance of childhood, and we look with infant eyes into that face that was once all the world to us. Again we are leaning upon a love that is all our strength-that is the best image of God to us. Yes, there is something in a Mother's comfort that sends us hopefully to God; that gives us assurance of his pity; that insures us his compassion; that tell us he will not plead against us with his great power, but will put strength into us. Job xxiii. 6. A feeling springs up like that in the heart of the little girl who heard the preacher describe in an awful