view to their worldly gain: and, as his hearers were mostly tradesmen, his graphic delineations were sometimes keenly felt in the consciences of individuals, who were ready to say, 'Art thou come to call our sins to our remembrance?' More than one of his mercantile hearers has asked him, in private intercourse, by what means he had acquired so exact and extraordinary an acquaintance with the varieties of fraud, which, however familiar in the busy walks of trade, might be supposed little known to a minister of the Gospel. To such a question he has replied, that he had derived his knowledge partly from the habitual study of his own heart, partly from his personal experience of a busy life in his earlier years; as he had been apprenticed to an eminent London bookseller, previously to his collegiate preparation for the ministry. "So searchingly did he probe the consciences of his hearers, that it was not unfrequent with some among them to visit him for the purpose of private conference, counsel, and consolation. He well knew how to 'speak a word in season to the weary,' with a peculiar sympathy and kindness. Yet quite as well he knew how to apply the terror of the Lord :' and I remember his telling me, that one of the most effective sermons (as he had reason to believe) which he had ever preached, was of terrific character, and founded on those words of overwhelming horror: In hell he lifted up his eyes, being in torments.' That sermon (he had reason to hope) had been used by the Lord as an instrument for rescuing a brand from the burning,' which the preacher aimed to represent. Another of his most striking sermons, divided between the morning and evening of the same Sabbath, was formed on a theme contrasted with the preceding, the conduct and the reward of the faithful Christian, as exemplified in St. Paul: 'I have fought the good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith: henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me at that day.' 66 But, whatever excellencies he possessed as a preacher, Mr. Mortimer was unconscious of them himself: for he frequently deplored what he considered the inefficiency of his ministrations, and was accustomed to speak in the most humble terms of his sermons. On one such occasion, he said, 'When I come out of the pulpit, and turn over in my mind what I have said, I think, What does it all amount to? How much more to the purpose it might have been, and how much more useful!' On the Sunday evenings, after committing his past endeavours into the hands of his God by prayer, he would turn his thoughts from the review of what he considered his past failures to the hope of future usefulness, by at once renewing his exertions. With this view, he was accustomed, before he retired to rest on the Sunday evening, to look out a text for the following Sunday, and to form the outline of the sermon. But although he was thus peculiarly anxious about the preparation of his sermons, he seldom spoke on the subject without remarking upon the necessity of the accompanying influences of the Holy Spirit, to render efficacious even the most highly wrought, powerful, and most convincing sermon. Indeed, he has expressed the opinion, that the most common-place sermons were often made the most useful; because, in such cases, the preacher, being aware of their defects, and being thus divested of all feelings of self-congratulation, was led, in more humble dependence upon God, to entreat that he would give the increase. "In connexion with this subject, he once mentioned having preached for a friend on a rainy day to an exceedingly small congregation. The comparatively large number of empty pews presented a very discouraging aspect, and tended very much to depress his spirits;—altogether such was the effect produced on his mind, that least of all on that day would he have expected any favourable result from his sermon. Some time afterwards, when he was spending an evening at the house of a person who resided at some distance both from the place where he preached and from his own home, a lady, who was of the party, took an opportunity of stating how much she felt indebted to him for the spiritual sight that she had received through his instrumentality. He was at a loss to know what she alluded to, for he had no recollection of having seen her before: but she brought to his recollection the thinly-scattered congregation in his friend's church, for whom he had preached on a very rainy day and then stated that she was one of those few hearers, and that the sermon had made so deep an impression on her mind as to have been productive of lasting benefit." (For the Christian Guardian.) THOUGHTS ON ST. MATTHEW'S GOSPEL. "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God." CHAP. V. VERSE 9. It was an hour of sorrow and of gloom, The darkest night that ever closed on earth; While the base, murderous world prepared a tomb But where was He, the world's deliverer, then? Ah! no-behold Him in yon " upper room," They number o'er their rich possessions here, To friends with whom their memory will be dear, What was the best, the dearest gem of Him In whom "the fullness of the Godhead" dwelt? Ah! he had known them in a land of bliss! Nor was it Riches that his spirit framed A worthy treasure for his much-loved few; What though the great Arch-fiend had boldly claimed* This bright but fallen world, full well he knew It had been granted to th' eternal Son, And that earth's "utmost parts" were his alone.t But what were earthly riches in his sight? A purer gold, which time can never dim ; Could it be Fame He left them for their own? Was it on that He stamped his heavenly seal? Ah! no-He saw beneath the laurel crown Those thorns concealed, which mortals only feel; And how could this world's favour win the love Of them whose hearts are fixed on things above? No-it was none of these-full well he knew The vanity of all their boasted power; How they would shrink, and vanish from the view, In sorrow's night, or death's more gloomy hour; And sure he wished some treasure to be given, Which might be reared on earth, to bloom in heaven. And such it was, that bright, unfading flower Which shines on earth in heaven's immortal hue; Well may our weary spirits bless the hour Which sweetly heard "My peace I leave with you," For when did youthful heir's impatient glance Rest on a lovelier inheritance? Yes, it was Peace, that fount of happiness, Which sweetly in earth's darkest moment rose; A narrow streamlet in life's wilderness, Yet flowing on, and widening as it flows; If such the gift, and such the Giver, why And guard it as the dying legacy Of Him, whose memory their hearts adore? It would be so, but fallen nature rolls Its poisoned waters o'er the purest souls. He knew the barren soil, and kindly lent His beams and showers on every seed He sowed; Which, dropped in words of sweet encouragement, Shine forth as landmarks on the heavenly road; And "Blessed are the peacemakers" shall sound Its call of truce the jarring world around. Children of God, arouse ye at the cry, Prove your adoption by the eternal King; Seem but a time-worn and forgotten thing; In all around us, all within our sphere; Nor let our task, our Christian labour cease, Till earth's remotest ends have heard the sound; To the rich treasures of our heavenly birth; Oh! think of what that glorious home must be, Where "Peacemaker," the name most dear on earth Is needed not, and shall for ever cease Where, strife all o'er, the very air is peace! Thou "very God of Peace," thou fount divine, Fill us with love and heavenly purity, Thrice blessed "Prince of Peace," whose dying prayer That we, thy creatures, might, as brethren, share This dark, chaotic mass of human kind Speak but the word-each jarring sound shall cease, L. N. PUNCTUALITY, A CHRISTIAN DUTY. BY THE REV. W. MORGAN, B. D. "REDEEMING the time" is placed by the Apostle Paul (Eph. v. 16; Col. iv. 5.) among the precepts of Christianity, and therefore it should be invariably attended to and practised by every Christian, in all the concerns of human life. Dr. Johnson said that "Punctuality is a quality which the interest of mankind requires to be diffused through all ranks." But, alas! so common is the want of punctuality, and so great are the evils which arise from its neglect, that it is absolutely necessary to remind even the sincere Christian of its importance. The following remarks upon the subject are therefore earnestly submitted to serious consideration. Fa 1. Observe, then, a man who is not punctual in his family. He generally has no stated, regular time for rising in the morning. His servants and children are out of order in consequence of his example. mily prayer is carelessly or hastily performed, or often neglected. Can God's blessing be expected on them? His business during the day is confused, so that God is not glorified through Christ Jesus. The evening devotions of the family are apt to be performed when they are drowsy and sleepy. As for closet prayer it is to be feared that it is not offered at all, or if attempted, it is not solemn and efficacious. Let any one reflect upon the effects of such conduct. Is it not destructive to domestic peace and comfort? Does it not mar that man's peace, and curtail his usefulness? 2. Notice the want of punctuality in the man of business. Others are affected by his conduct. As they cannot place confidence in him, they will either take advantage of his delay, or for fear of losing their own time, cease to deal with him. If they are careless too of their appointments, they corrupt each other more and more, by the contagion of bad example. Hence, it is no wonder that such persons have no time for acts of piety and charity, for their time is squandered away and lost-lost for ever, so that they are unprofitable servants. They do not learn the happy art of managing time, and they hurry into eternity without answering the end of their existence. What a dreadful account will theirs be at the bar of God! 3. Let us advert to the evils that flow from the want of punctuality in teachers of Sunday-schools. We suppose the school should open at nine o'clock in the forenoon, and that the children are to be taught, previous to public worship, for one hour; and, that the school should open at one o'clock in the afternoon, and that the instruction should be given for two hours. Thus three hours are agreed upon by the teachers, voluntarily, as an act of Christian love, to be devoted for teaching poor, ignorant children, the most important doctrines and duties of religion: and those three hours are the only time in seven days that many of these can be taught at all. This amounts, in the year, to thirteen days, of twelve hours eacha very little time for so great an object! Yet, many teachers inconsiderately lose five minutes in the morning and five minutes in the afternoon, (some teachers lose more,) for one Sunday in two throughout the year. By this loss, the children lose upwards of four hours; and if we consider, as alas! we may often do, three times as much lost, there will be one day lost of the thirteen days. And can any conscientious teacher bear to say, I have lost a day! If in this calculation we take into the account the children's loss, it will be found very great. If a class consists of twelve children, the four hours lost by each, in consequence of the teacher's loss, will be equal to four days, so that he not only robs himself of his time to teach, but also all the children of their time to learn. Is not this a sad robbery? Has he engaged to teach these poor creatures? But, to a fearful |