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He that points out the path of virtue 'to youth, and uses the means to instil the sweet drops of present and future felicity into the juvenile mind, has one of the most amiable and laudable objects in view.- This I have beheld to be the chief object of your valuable little work; and which, at the same time, that it excites emotions of pleasure, must excite also gratitude and esteem ; as
“ Virtue only makes our peace below. While the plant is green and tender, the boughs thereof nay be made to yield to the hand of the husbandman, but when it becomes aged this is unattainable. They grow strong and unwieldy, and must thus remain till the axe of the woodman is applied to cut it down, or the violence of the gale whirls its roots from the face of the earth.
When the avenue to true virtue is not pointed out to the youth, it is, alas! too often verified when he arrives at riper years, that he is launched spontaneously into the abyss of despair, by the insinuating, but deceitful, gaieties of the world. Permit me to mention one among the many instances that unfortunately occor, in corroboration of this remark, and which indeed is the chief cause of this epistle.
Some years ago, while I resided in our splendid metropolis, a young lady was pointed out to me on the street, by a gentlemen, with whom I was walking, at the same time mentioning, that she had recently come to town ; but who having been led away from the path I have been noticing, by the idle and licentious, was deserted and disowned by her parents, relations, and friends, and was now floating in the world at large at the mercy of the boisterous waves of the profligate and profane ; That she had considered her miserable and undone state, disowned and despised by all who knew her, and highly culpable in the eyes of an Almighty God, and was now anxious to return from the rugged mountains of misery and woe; and to retrace if possible her former footsteps on the delightful plain of virtue; and hav.. ing some slight acquaintance with him while in her father's house, she had handed him a letter to present to her grieva ed father, begging at the same time, that he would intereede on her behalf.
This affecting narrative excited not a little anxiety in my breast, I therefore craved of him to shew me this letter, which she had left open for his perusal; with which he complied, and finding the sentiments therein made use of so very expressive of her proselyte behaviour and earnest wish to reform, and knowing them also to be the words of one taught (to her sad misfortune) at the school of experience, I copied it.-It was in the following words:
Most venerable and affectionate Parents,
FROM the hands of an afflicted and wretched daughter, does this epistle come.
While I thus use that name once held by me sacred, I tremble.--Pray forgive me. Though the magnitude of my crimes has been enormous not only against you but against the Supreme Judge of all the earth, receive me back to that mansion in which my first breath was drawn, and into the society of my dear relations. I am wont to murmur at the day that gave me birth, that my es. istence was not terminated in my infancy ;--but, ah ! let, not such proceed from my lips, I am alone guilty! Though I. have been thus guilty both in the eyes of God and man, still I trust there is pardon to be found with both, when repentance is shown. If my offended Maker forgives me, may not I expect also forgiveness from my dear parents? At this time I am fallen and destitute of all the comforts of life ! Mỳ repu. tation is gone; my beauty, riches, grandeur,-yea, my all is lost! I am as the wretched prodigal mentioned in the sacred writings, and like him also do I approach with fear and trembling for forgiveness. I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight, and, am unworthy the name I bear, and will
gladly fill even the humblest station in thy house. These are the sincere sentiments of a heart torn with anguish and sink. ing in despair ; which I humbly hope will be listened to before farther darkness come upon me, by parents to whiom I was once dear as their right eye, otherwise my gloomy and wretched days' will, ere long, be at an end in this world.
I am, your affectionate,
but wretched, daughter,
She being an only child had been indulged in every desire by her fond, but anthinking parents; who timorous to keep her at her books for injuring her health, had not insisted upon her being instructed in the first principles of religion and virtue.
In the mists of confusion, and dazzled by the false glare of fasbionable nocturnal circles, she had mistaken the true path which is characterized as leading to happiness and endless felicity, and had advanced too far in that which leadeth to irretrievable misery. Alas! it is too often the case, that repentance does not appear, as in this instance, till pressed with calamities. When the hour of affliction approached she looked round her and bethought herself, when too late, of retracing her course,
This letter and the gentleman's intercession had the desired effect in restoring her to her father's mansion ; but notwithstanding the utmost care and affectionate kindness was shown to her, I was afterwards informed, that she became quite melancholy and was seized with a distemper which cut her off a few months after her return.She was then in the prime of life, about the age of 22.Hence she was a Tender Plint blasted in the Bud.
The Zealot according to Knowledge Is one who, amidst all his zeal, remembers that he is a man, subject to passions and mistakes as well as his neighbours ; and, therefore, he never grows haughty and assuming, insolent and domineering, but is full of love and good will to all mankind, even to those who differ most widely from him ; and who, therefore, dares not under any pretence whatsoever, violate the laws of charity, nor break in upon any rights, to which all men have an equal claim. He is one who, though he spares no pains in informing the ignorant, convincing the erroneous, reproving the bold sinner, and reforming the debauchee, yet never allows himself to censure rashly, to slander, oppress, or injure any man in any kind, and much less on account of religion, or matters of conscience. Finally, he is one who, though he is very earnest and diligent in this work, yet goes about it with prudence, and manages it with caution and discretion.
Such is the character of the man whose zeal God approves, and all wise and good men applaud. Such a man can scarce be supposed ever to do any mischief in the world-he can scarce fail of being remarkably beneficial to it. And as ugly an appearance as %eal sometimes makes, big with the mischiefs and ruin which it has too often produced-thus lovely a figure would it make, under these regulations. Smith's Sermon on Religious Zeal.
A Scene in a Church-yard.
(Continued from p. 83.) THE fair one, who has been surrounded with a train of admirers, who bave praised and exalted her virtues and accomplishments; who have poured out the tender emotions of their hearts in the most passionate and pathetic strains ;
a glance of whose eye would have rendered them the happiest of mortals, and darted comfort to their enamoured soul, even she, amidst all the panegyric bestowed upon her, has descended to the grave, and become an inhabitant of the dark and narrow house. Where now her rosy hue and ruddy complexion, of which she vainly boasted ? Where now her charms and allurements? Where all her sprightliness and vivacity? Alas! death has brought the whole to a final termination.
What do the histories of past ages present to us but a continued catalogue of births and deaths ? Some indeed bave made a figure on the stage of time, but how soon did they make their exit-how soon was the scene withdrawn! JOB, when speaking of the grave, says, The small and great are there; men of all ages and nations-of all hues and complexions, have been taken captive by the hand of death, from the enlightened and civilized European to the rude and uncultivated Arab of the desart; from the dreary and forlorn Laplander to the black and tawny Moor on the plains of Africa.--Death spares none, the rigour of the sentence runs thus-Dust thou art, and shalt to dust return.
Seeing this is the case, what madness and folly is it for mortals to spend their precious time in the pursuit of those things which perish with the using, to the neglect of their everlasting salvation. Let us but for a moment take a view of the state of the wicked in another world, what awful miseries do they suffer! What excruciating pain do they feel! Banished from the presence of Jehovah, they are doomed to dwell with devils, and hold converse with everlasting groans. No soft floating melody to attract their ears; no music to enliven their mind ; nothing but the clanking of eternal chains. Their worm dieth not, and their fire is not quenched. On the other hand, let us