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Early German Hermits....
32, 96, 128, 288, 319, 351
of Great Joy....
Death of Prescott...
Hymn for Passion Season..
138, 168. 200. 236, 267, 294, 326, 373
He is a fine Young Man.
Never to Late to Learn.
Our Native Land..
Poetry by Telegraph.
Philadelphia in 1748.
Names of Days—Their Origin...175
Nothing is Lost....
Notes on New Books.
33 Vanity of Earth..
What is Heaven.
Work and Rest..
WE have sometimes found beautiful flowers in what seemed to be rocky, barren and uninviting regions. We have drawn valuable instruction from the dry columns of statistical tables. A very shallow and bony discourse has often proved very suggestive, causing the many things that were not said only to rise more richly and clearly to view. Let it not be regarded strange, therefore, that we have just reviewed the old Subscription List of the Guardian, with a view of edifying ourselves from its pages. Indeed we have found the practical suggestion which it silently makes of sufficient value to be presented to our readers, as appropriate thoughts with which to begin the New Year. Some are very pleasant-some are sad-some are painful-but all profitable to be called up and made the subject of reflection.
It is pleasant to find many names that were entered when the Guardian first made its appearance in January, 1850. The thought that we have succeeded during so long a time in interesting, and we hope profiting, these faithful and persevering friends, affords us vast encouragement. It is pleasant in this view to look back over the labors and cares of the years which have intervened; and to regard these standing witnesses as an endorsement of the spirit of our Magazine. We hope they are not a whit poorer for the dollar which, from year to year, stands credited opposite their names,
We find some names that have been frequently changed from one post office address to another, thus indicating that though their pleasure and calling required them to move about in the land, they did not wish to lose sight of the Guardian. This we take as an incidental and delicate compliment to our Magazine. Indeed we have many letters from such, which prove that they regarded their old friend as a very agreeable companion among strangers in their new homes.
We find some pencil notes of the clerk on the books, which are less pleasant. Here and there, and not seldom, we find entries of this kind : The abbreviation "Dis," which means discontinued, written before the name, and after it words like these: "J-H-- paid $1, owes $2; postmaster says, he has left the place w thout giving notice, and that the
money cannot be collected." This is painful; not altogether on account of the pecuniary loss, but on account of the moral character which it exhibits as belonging to the delinquent. We are not so much injured by the fraud as he is himself. It is easier for us to lose the $2, than it is for him to bear the recollection of the graceless deed through life. The effect on our pocket is not so deep as the wound in his conscience. His moral nature has suffered by the act He may forget it, as the wound given to a tender tree may be overgrown, but the mark is there. If his spiritual nature is ever renewed by the grace and spirit of God, it will be apt to come up before him and give him trouble; and if he remains hardened, it will be found more difficult to settle even a small bill of $2 at the day of judgment, than it would be by remitting the amount to those who have earned it by patient labor On this account, records like this pain us. We review them not in anger, but in pity, and sincerely pray that such "may have repentance and better minds." For we greatly fear that any one who can pass over his conscience the dishonesty involved in the withholding of so small a sum, has not sufficient moral principle ever to become useful and successful in an honorable calling. Where will he end who thus begins? and who will ever commit an important trust to one who proves so unreliable in that which is least!
There is one class of records on our books, which always awakens many reflections. The clerk has been directed to change the name of Miss A-C- to Mrs. A- H-! What does that mean? Is the direction changed to another person? So an inexperienced reader would suppose; but we know better. It is the same person, only some change of name has taken place which is to be corrected. The A- remains the same, but C- having been changed into H, requires the prefix Miss to be changed into Mrs. In one word our lady subscriber has been married. We hope the change of state, which has required the change of name, may prove a happy one. Indeed we are rather favorably impressed with the spirit of the husband; for he is not willing to deprive her of her old friend the Guardian. He has himself written and requested the change, at the same time enclosing the cash for another year. There that is something like what might be expected from a good husband. Indeed we had no reason to fear anything else; for our lady friend has profited by reading the many sound suggestions on the subject of marriage in our Magazine, so that she has been judicious in making her choice. She has not united herself with one of those miserly and unliterary spirits, who thinks that if only he has his cigars to smoke, she may do without her Guardian. If he must have his cigars, let him have them; and if she wants her Magazine, let her have it. Besides it will not injure him in the least to read it from month to month, and profit by its lessons. Sometimes he also has been a subscriber. This is a loss to us; but it is a benefit to her, for then we are sure that she has married a sensible young man. Many happy New Years to the happy couple.
Not so frequently, but still not seldom, do we find entered after the name, the short but solemn word "died!" The subscriber began the year with us, but did not live to see it end. The silver cord has been loosed, the golden bowl is broken! The dust has returned to the earth as it was, and the spirit to God who gave it. The place is desolatehearts have been bereaved-and the mourners go about the streets.
Such is life! As for man, his days are as grass; as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth. For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone; and the place thereof shall know it no more.
We wish our readers a happy New Year, and ask their kind aid anew in favor of the circulation of the Guardian. The general financial depression of the country has of course also affected our subscription list. On this account the more earnestly would we ask all who desire the continued prosperity of our Magazine to cheer us, by procuring and sending in new lists of subscribers. Young men--young ladies, may we have the pleasure of hearing from you?
The new number will show, we hope, that no pains are spared by either Editor or Publisher. We therefore confidently entrust our Guardian-which it has been our joy to nurse and nourish for nearly ten years -to the kindness of its well-tried friends, whose sympathy, aid and good wishes it has thus far so constantly enjoyed.
WELCOME TO MY REDEEMER.
(ADVENT HYMN.)-BY X. Y. Z.
WELCOME, welcome, dear Redeemer,
Thine for ever,
Be this ransomed heart of mine!
Welcome, welcome, dear Redeemer,
Shine within my bosom, shine!
Welcome, welcome, dear Redeemer,
None shall ever,
I am thine, and thou art mine!