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We heard lately of a manufacturing firm in Lancashire that had cleared last year above one hundred thousand pounds. I wonder what portion of it went into the Lord's treasury? Perhaps a guinea or two subscription to the schools, and a trifle more to the other charities of the town. Yet the income tax thereon would have to be quietly submitted to and paid; and should there be no reference to still

higher claims? Who is it that enableth man to get wealth and to prosper in the world? And who


is it that condescends to call us his stewards, and who will soon return from a far country, whither he is gone, and reckon with us; that says, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me?" And should not worldly prosperity be consecrated to his service in the very first instance? Should he not have the first fruits? Must all, as a matter of course, go to the family aggrandizement-all be cursed and blighted by a selfish monopoly? With urgent calls in all directions, at home and abroad, would there be anything unreasonable in the transfer of thousands out of hundreds of thousands to the Lord's coffers? Ah! depend upon it, he whose merchandise is prospering on an extended scale will be the last to differ with me in opinion, however wild and enthusiastic it may appear now, when he comes on a dying bed, and feels the utter nothingness of riches beyond the good he has done with them, and when he comes to render his account before the judgment-seat of Christ.

When shall we see men who are busy to grow rich, not for themselves only, but for Christ and for others? The thought may be ridiculed, but it will bear, at all events, to be weighed in the balances of

the sanctuary, that there would be nothing irrational, much less unchristian, if men would fix within sober bounds the maximum to be allotted for a family, and devote all beyond to the service of Christ; not postponing indeed the exercises of charity till that maximum is attained, but securing the increase of the Lord's blessing by a wise and adequate scattering from year to year. There are many instances where there are no children to provide for; what great things might be done there! but we have many of us lived to see in how many instances it would have been better for children to have had less left to them. We long to see our merchants and manufacturers mak

ing money for God. Why should the world stare in astonishment at a solitary instance here and there— a Thornton in one century, a Mortlock in another! We care not to be called visionary and wild; we know our ground, and we hope we may live to see the day when the rising exigencies of the world, and when the irresistible conviction that this highly favoured nation is placed on her peculiar vantage ground for supplying them; and, above all, when such floods of light and of love shall be let down from heaven into men's souls, that it shall become their sweetest luxury and most sublime enjoyment, to make money for the glory of Christ and the happiness of men.

Shall the day never come, when we can go into manufacturing districts and hear the mill-owner say, "I am building that additional mill and carrying on more merchandise, not because I need more myself— I thank God I have prospered in the world, and have realized enough for my family-but I am anxious to make friends of the mammon of unrighteousness; I am longing to do all I can to advance my Saviour's

kingdom. I see suffering, and ignorance, and misery in all directions, and I am making haste to be rich, that I may give my thousands, and if it may be, my tens of thousands, as a good steward of Jesus Christ. It is as little as I can do for him who has blessed me with his unsearchable and unfading riches, who has been through life my bountiful Benefactor and neverfailing Friend. Will any one venture to question the wisdom and the happiness of such a line of conduct?

And the same principle applies to many others besides the manufacturers. We have heard of some whose great anxiety and difficulty it is to know how to dispose of their "savings" to the best advantage. They have made their family arrangements; ten or twenty thousand pounds, or more, is secured to each of the children; but there is annually a surplus of income over the expenditure, and what is to be done with it? Done with it! Should a Christian be at a loss? Is it the worst speculation to "lend to the Lord?" Does the God of heaven give the poorest interest? Does he not promise to restore principal as well as interest? When he who is set before us as our example, that we may "follow his steps," when He was willing to become poor that we might be made rich, shall we find it difficult to give merely out of our abundance the superfluity of our wealth : touching neither the comfort of our own living, or the competent provision for our families when we are gone! Oh! there must be something strangely and dangerously wrong in the moral and religious constitution of a professing Christian's soul, who can suffer himself to live and act through life under the uninterrupted influence of his natural MAY-1845.

selfishness, aiming at nothing but a family monopoly of his wealth, to the robbery of his God, and to the betraying of his high and responsible trust.

Would that my readers would calmly and prayerfully consider this important subject. I offer these remarks, not in haste, but as the result of long and increasing conviction. I am sure that no department of Christian duty can safely be neglected by any of us. I believe that this is less understood and more imperfectly attended to than any other. Yet the testimony of the Bible is given in the clearest and most forcible language. Worldly prosperity is attached to generosity; the happiness of human life is inseparably connected with it. And indeed we see every day how little happiness wealth can confer beyond the good that is done with it. Selfish and excessive expenditure seals its own misery: while, as for careful and parsimonious hoarding, a man might as well have as many pebbles as sovereigns laid up, for any good or satisfaction that he gives himself.

I know a man who only lives and thinks and contrives for one specific object; namely, that he may come to a point of possession when he can boast that he is worth a million! This is the ultimatum of life. Oh, what a mistake! to be happy even in this world be the object, what a mistake!


But it is still further to be remembered, that covetousness is said to be idolatry; and that the covetous man is classed in Scripture with the whoremonger, and other flagrant offenders, and excluded from the kingdom of heaven. Oh, that my readers would lay all this to heart! You must not suf

fer yourselves to be deceived by the little scanty efforts at charity which steal out of your abundance.

2 E

Possibly, with your thousands ayear, you are contenting yourselves with your sovereign subscriptions-not more than the clergyman of your parish, with all his calls and limited means, is cheerfully contributing. But where you are giving your single sovereigns, you should be giving your hundreds and your thousands. I repeat it, charity must be directed by the calls and claims which present themselves, by our own facilities for meeting them, and our individual ability. You must bring yourselves and all your doings under this standard.

It is a striking consideration, that there is a sufficiency of means

in this nation alone for evangel-
izing the world, and for effecting
an ample instrumentality for
carrying forward the moral and
religious interests of mankind. But
the silver and the gold are with-
held. The stewards to whom they
are confided, venture on the fearful
guilt of self-appropriation.
that they were wise! Oh, that
they understood the highest luxury
and happiness of man! Oh, that
they would consider their latter
end, when an account must be
rendered, and when Christ will say
to the faithful, "Inasmuch as ye
have done it unto the least of these


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The Everlasting Mountains! how did they treasure up
The Truth's unfailing waters, as in a giant's cup!

When broken were the cisterns that earthly hands had wrought,
How, from their quiet hamlets, full water-urns were brought!

The Everlasting Mountains! how often at their root
Have weary pilgrims gather'd our Faith's most lovely fruit!
The dews upon them rested, both eventide and morn,
Until their sunny hollows stood thick with golden corn.

When through the world was famine, and wasted every cheek,
Thither the pilgrims journey'd, the Bread of Life to seek:

The mountain corn they gathered, they drank the mountain stream,
And rose up strong to battle with many an ancient dream.

Yet lonely spirits thirsted in dim, secluded cells,
And knew not Truth was shining in quiet mountain wells;
And fainting spirits hungered, and knew not there was corn
Afar upon the mountains, as golden as the morn.

And weary souls departed, in silence, and alone,
Fearing the truth would perish, beneath their burial-stone;
Would that a kindly spirit had whisper'd in their ear,
The dreary night was ending, the morning watch was near!

Their eyes they would have lifted, to mark the shadow cease—
To hail upon the mountains the messengers of peace!
They would have gone rejoicing, those messengers to meet,
They would have hasted singing, "How beautiful their feet!"

The blessed news they heard not is ringing in our ears;
The olive trees are budding they water'd with their tears!
The little mountain streamlets to mighty floods have spread,
Along the parching valleys the thirsting cities led.

Yet many a mountain fastness with Christian bones was strewn,
Ere in the cold, hard marble the channels could be hewn;
And many a mountain streamlet ran dark with Christian blood,
Ere yet the mean and simple by pleasant waters stood!

Ye Everlasting Mountains! what legends could ye tell
Of children true and faithful that in their harness fell!
Clasping to bleeding bosoms the blessed Word of Life,
That was not lost nor blotted through all the deadly strife!

Proud City! that art dwelling the seven-fold hills upon,
Hast thou no thought of pity o'er all thy hand has done?
Oh, that from these old mountains the mighty rushing wind
Into thy gorgeous temples an open door could find!

For if it might but enter, how would thy children mourn
In sackcloth and in ashes, their scarlet raiment torn!

How would they go forth gladly, fresh with the heavenly breath,
pour the balm of healing where once they scatter'd death!

How would we gaze upon thee! How would we bless thee then!
A light in lofty places, a lamp for mighty men!
How would thine hands be strengthen'd! how would'st thou sit a queen!
And not a murmur utter'd of all that thou hast been!



Once bloom'd on earth a wondrous

Within a lowly spot it grew;
But it possess'd a healing power,

And far and wide its odours threw:
Thousands in speechless rapture stood,
As they the mystic blossom view'd
Unfold its gorgeous cup, and show
The glowing heart that shone below.*

Some pluck'd therefrom a leaf to try
What virtue in its balsam lay,
And found that nought beneath the sky,
Like it,could charm their griefs away.
How cooling was its touch, when prest
Upon the fever'd, anxious breast!
How gently did it soothe the smart
Of the distemper'd, wounded heart!+

More lovelily each hour it smiled,
And round it seem'd a charmed spot;
There no unwholesome blast defiled,

And tainting sin approach'd it not:
But dew from heav'n came softly down
To rest upon its scented crown; ‡
Unearthly voices whisper'd there,
And silvery harp-tones fill'd the air.§
And still to Heav'n its face was turn'd,

As though it own'd a Sire above;
And its expanded bosom burn'd,
As though o'ercharged with bound-
less love.

Ne'er was it closed:-by day it shed
Its perfume on man's favour'd head;
By night, all bared beneath the sky,
It seem'd to court its Father's eye. T

* Luke iv. 22. † Luke iv. 40. John iii. 34. § Matt. iii. 17. Luke ii. 13. ||I am indebted to a German writer for the idea expressed in these four lines. Lu. xxi. 37.

At length unrighteous mortals, stung
With envy at this beauteous Flower,
Loose to the winds its blossoms flung,

And trodit down with spiteful power.
And on its head a stone they laid,*
And many a mock and song they

Triumphant in the deed which slew
A fairer bud than nature knew.

But-joy for man!—a little while
And the majestic Flower once more
Uplifted with a radiant smile

Its forehead statelier than before.

And slowly into heaven it pass'd,
While many a longing look was cast
Upon it as it ling'ring went
Into the azure firmament.‡

But often since, that Flower has been
Beheld by cleansed and loving souls,
And still, where'er 'tis smelt and seen,

It every sin and grief controls.
Thou, Jesus, art this mystic Flower,
Thine is the cooling, soothing power
Which hearts, diseas'd by guilt, can

Ah, let ME, then, its fragrance feel.
M. N.


(For the Christian Guardian.)

I stood by the side of the calm, glassy ocean,

The beams of the morning were flung on the wave;
As it were to inspire human hearts with devotion,
And glory to shed o'er the mariner's grave.

When I ask'd of the Sea, if the beautiful dwelling
Of Wisdom in her coral caves could be found?
Methought that a musical murmur was swelling
And breathing the Deep's placid answer around.

"Not in me-not in me, is the boon you are seeking,
Though bright are my waves with their pure, snowy crest;
Though majestic my mien when my thunders are speaking
And tossing your ships on my dark-heaving breast.

"Not in me—though rare jewels beneath are reposing,
And sunk in my chambers the treasures of men!"
And here I perceived that around me were closing
The tides of the ocean I listened to then.

"Not in me"-said the voice, like a storm sudden starting


Go, and find thou true wisdom in fearing the Lord;

And far from all evil with swift feet departing,

Oh, flee to thy Saviour, the Ever Adored!"

The waves gather'd round me in wildest commotion,
The red levin flashed from a thick, sullen cloud;
I deemed that my grave would be found in the ocean,
And the murky sea-gloom be my funeral shroud.

I utter'd His name, and implored His assistance,
Who died for mankind on the criminal's tree;
When behold! there arose a bright cross in the distance,
A voice swept the air, "Here is wisdom in Me."

* Matt. xxvii. 66. † Ps. lxix. 12. Acts i. 10.

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