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be stirred to renewed diligence to carry the gospel to every scene of vice, and to tell every forlorn outcast of the Friend of sinners-able and willing to save to the uttermost!"

A SIMPLE MODE OF DOING GOOD.

THERE is now in the Probationary House of the London Female Mission, a young woman whose deep convictions of sin, and desire to quit her evil course of life were produced, under the Divine blessing, by the perusal of a tract sent her by some unknown friend, per post. The young woman in question had been religiously educated; the truth, therefore, thus unexpectedly presented to the eye, met a ready response in the conscience, and led to a change in the life.

The new postage act presents admirable facilities for this mode of doing good, of which every Christian might avail himself. The men of this world have, with eagerness, employed it to enlarge their connexions and business; ought not the disciple of Christ to seek by its means the extension of the Saviour's Kingdom?

MATERNAL FEARS SUPPRESSED.

While softly slumbering on its mother's breast,
The little babe enjoys its tranquil rest;
Careless of what may be to-morrow's fare,
Devoid of flattering hope, or anxious care;
How many thoughts of joy and sorrow find
Alternate place in the fond parent's mind!
Successive smiles and tears, without disguise,
Beam on her cheek and sparkle in her eyes.
She looks, she loves, and while she loves, she fears
What sorrow may attend its future years!

What nipping frost, or what destructive shower
May urge its force against the tender flower!
What storms may beat on its defenseless head,
When she, perhaps, is numbered with the dead!
Hence fears arise,-hence soft emotions roll
Through all the' impassion'd feelings of her soul!

But why such anxious thoughts?-Cast all thy care
On that dear Lord who hears and answers prayer!
Ask him to bless thy babe with saving grace,
And plead the promise," Such shall see his face."
How many lambs are gather'd with his arm,
And carry'd in his bosom, safe from harm!
"Ask, and ye shall receive," so says the Lord :
Believe him, trust him, take him at his word;
Leave at his throne thy case, and let the plea,
That children's children shall his glory see,
Be urg'd with faith;-the promise is divine,
And shall be realiz'd to thee and thine:
It shall be. Why?-because, 'tis not a worm,
'Tis not frail man,-'tis God that will perform!

G. R.

AN APPEAL.

"THE miserable creatures who infest our streets and decoy our youth, must not be abandoned, if we can prevent it, to misery in both worlds. It is possible to recover some of them out of the snare of the devil: it is godlike to attempt it. Many of them are young and not yet hardened in vice; ignorant, and not aware of the guilt of their conduct, nor of the misery to which it leads. Many of them sigh in secret over the misery of their condition, bitterly lament the folly that plunged them into it, and look wishfully around

for a way of escape. But whither shall they fly from

misery? they have broken the hearts of their parents, and now they are orphans; or, if their parents still live, they have long since been disowned by them.

The companions of their better days, disgusted at their vices, and trembling for their own characters, refuse to hold any intercourse with them. No decent family will employ them as servants, or admit them to lodge under their roof, even for a night. Dire necessity !—they must starve, or steal, or continue to spin out a miserable existence on the wages of iniquity, till the magistrate in mercy puts them into solitary confinement, or till disease sends them into an hospital, or hurries them into an untimely grave! An asylum, such as this for which we plead, is their only refuge from vice and ruin, it presents the only prospect for restoring their character, and leading them to industry, to sobriety, to virtue, and to happiness. Do not force us to shut our doors against the miserable outcasts; to reject their suit, when they implore us to save them from destruction. How shall we say to them, We entreated your fellowcreatures on your behalf, but they do not pity, they will not help you: you have sinned beyond their compassion, and it is only permitted us to recommend you to the mercy of your offended God!"

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We trust however, that an institution which is so necessary in this dissipated age, and which admits suitable objects from all parts of England, will receive aid for carrying forward its benevolent plans from the friends of religion in every part of the empire: we trust that our virtuous country-women in particular, will mingle compassion for their sex with detestation of the conduct of those who disgrace it; that parents will make the case their own, and knowing what anguish would seize their hearts, were a favourite daughter to be ensnared, and what efforts they would use to snatch the deluded creature from infamy and final ruin, that they will not refuse to gladden the

heart of some afflicted parent, whose grey hairs the profligacy of a child, threatens to bring down with sorrow to the grave."

THE VISIT.

A FEW mornings since I had occasion to call on a friend. My business was of such a nature, and of such importance, that it had given an impetus to family affairs, so that I had unconsciously gained an hour. I rose from the family altar, threw on my bonnet and cloak, and set out in haste, in pursuit of my object. I felt that it was early, but I knew that I should not be met with the cold and repulsive indifference of not at home; or the mistress of the house engaged. I knew the spirit of my friend was more in unison with that of an American gentleman, who, while a resident at Paris, was heard to say, that he always considered a rap at his door as a call from Providence.

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As I approached the threshold of my friend's mansion, I thought I heard music. I knew that the master of the house kept a house-organ; but these strains were more like the strains of hearts and voices, commingling under the sanctifying and elevating influences of a present Deity. I almost fancied that it was the music of the upper spheres. gave a gentle tap at the door. It was opened by a young woman, whose solemn countenance so impressed my own feelings, that I walked silently into an apartment, the door of which she cautiously opened for my entrance, without either of us having spoken. The master of the house, as I entered, politely welcomed me, by a silent bow, at the same time motioning with his hand that I should take an

unoccupied seat. On observing a numerous family seated around, I suspected at once, that they had just entered upon their family devotions, and that the music I had heard was the commencement of a morning song of praise.

I cannot do justice to the scene, or convey my own impressions, without transcribing the song itself, which this family choir continued to chaunt forth.

“Time is winging us away

To our eternal home;
Life is but a winter's day,

A journey to the tomb.
Youth and vigour soon will flee,
Blooming beauty lose its charms,
All that's mortal soon will be
Enclosed in death's cold arms.

"Time is winging us away
To our eternal home;
Life is but a winter's day,
A journey to the tomb.
But the Christian shall enjoy,

Health and beauty, soon above;
Far beyond the world's alloy,
Secure in Jesus' love."

The sentiments expressed in this sacred song, reminded me that this was, probably, my farewell call to my friends, as they were on the very eve of a removal. My heart was sad in view of our anticipated parting. The silent tear stood trembling on my cheek; but it was not till all were prostrated, in the act of solemn worship, that my feelings were relieved by a flood of tears. As we rose, I unconsciously exclaimed, If the communion of saints on earth is so sweet, "what will it be above?"

The course which my friends pursued in regard to myself, was in strict accordance with the injunction,

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