THE GUARDIAN. Vol. XXII.-JANUARY, 1871.- No. 1. NEW YEAR. BY THE EDITOR. A Happy New Year, doth the GUARDIAN wish all its readers. During the year past it has wrought, taught, pleaded and prayed for their well-being. "As thy servant was busy here and there, he was gone," said a disguised prophet to the King of Israel (1 Kings xx. 40). As we busily strive to do life's solemn work, our years speed by, and ere we think of it they are gone. What has the past year brought to you, dear reader? Sorrow? Alas, yes. And with the sorrow came the needed grace to turn sorrow into joy. Sickness? God in mercy sends sickness upon the body, to make us conscious of our soul-sickness, and make us willing to accept the balm of the divine Physician. Bereavement? "Stop Miss A.'s GUARDIAN, she died;" is the purport of some letters. In our congregation we buried fourteen persons between twelve and thirty years of age. A year ago, the most of these were as hale and hopeful as you and I are now. Some were the life and joy of their home circle, others the support of a widowed mother; some found their greatest pleasure in being and doing good, giving the fragrant bloom of life's morning to God. Still we could point out the place in the Sunday-school and church, where some of them regularly sat; their absence from their places calls up sad and pleasant memories. Some, how thankful are we that there are not many such, grieved sorely on their dying bed over broken vows, and misspent Sundays, and neglected communion seasons. They, too, died. Many such as these ended their life the past year; many of our former readers, too. To their mourning friends we offer our Christian sympathies, and pray the Father of all mercies to comfort their sorrowing hearts. Into other families changes of a more cheerful nature have entered. "Please change the address of Miss B., to Mrs. C.," we are often told. Which signifieth that Miss B. hath formed an alliance with Mr. C., and henceforth shall be known by his name. We wish all such a great deal of joy, and all the delights of a Christian home. That they invite the GUARDIAN to continue its visits to their new home, we take as a good indication; showing a disposition to start right, by accepting of the monthly teachings of a safe counsellor. Have any failed or fallen? Alas, how many fail! But to fall clear away from virtue-from Christ-that strikes one of the saddest strings on life's Æolian lyre. "When any falls from virtue, I am distract, I have an interest in it." Come back, O ye poor erring ones. Stray no longer, no further. You are on the wrong path. True, many walk thereon, but "it leadeth to destruction." Come back, it is not too late yet. It may be too late to-morrow. "Return, O wanderer return, Thy Saviour bids thy spirit live; The volume of 1871 is still a closed book. From day to day will it open to us, page after page. What will it bring to us? What will we bring to it? On every page we shall write something, either good or ill. Our hearts, thoughts, actions, will be indelibly photographed therein. "I write for eternity" said a great man. So do you and I, kind reader, and in a very solemn sense. What shall we write? The volume of 1870 has been closed. Yet much that it contains we still remember; and, perhaps, remember with sorrow. We can learn useful lessons from it; let us learn and heed them well. Life is a growth-a growth in good or evil--a progress on the narrow or broad road. Only that human life grows in that which is permanently good, which is united by faith to Christ. In Him we have life. Out of Him we are dead. The Christian's life is onward. It knows no pause. He aims to advance: "To live that each to-morrow Are we Christians? We must strive to be more Christ-like the next year than we have been in the past. We must advance, if we would not lose what we have gained. The child of God is a conqueror, who like the cannon ball must go ahead, or drop powerless |