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that, among the felicities of heaven, this intuitive communication from spirit to spirit, will form a part; and, perhaps, supersede, in some measure, the necessity of language. And if, in the present unripe state of being, we possess a faculty of conveying our thoughts and wishes one to another, without the help of speech, what may not be expected of enjoyment in this particular, when our intellectual powers shall have attained a maturity of perfection! “I will instantly go with you,” said I to the
weeping mother: we will fetch hoine the wretched wanderer. You shall take her again to your arms, and she shall lie in your bosom, and be unto you still a daughter ; and, under the blessing of God reforming her heart, and correcting her from the error of her ways, like another prodigal child, spoken of elsewhere, you shall say of her, as that parent is described to have said concerning his, “For this my child was dead, and is alive again ; was lost, and is found.” I felt a warmth of sympathy as I spoke. Indeed, indeed, I recol. lected at the moment, what is said of Thee, thou loveliest and brightest of all patterns of mercy! Yes, blessed Jesus! I called to mind thine unequalled grace, when thou camest from thine home in heaven, to seek our poor nature lost here upon earth! And thine own gracious words crossed my memory in the view: “ Thus saith the Lord God, Behold I, even I, will both search my sheep and seek them out. And I will deliver them out of all places whither they have been scattered in the cloudy and dark day. I will seek that which was lost, and bring again that which was driven away; and will bind up that which was broken, and will strengthen that which was sick !” Precious Lord! what an endearment doth such a view of thy mercy to our poor nature give, to add to all the other features of thy lovely character !
I shall not offend, I hope, (should these lines, perchance, fall under the eye of some parent, or mother, or mistress of a family) in venturing to remark, how very different, in numberless instances, is our conduct from that of the blessed Jesus. Do we not, sometimes, by unkind and rigorous treatment, aid the temptation which is perpetually in exercise upon the virtue of our female children and servants ? Have not many been prompted to listen to the artful insinuations of young men, the more readily, to get free from the shackles of too severe a government ? And in cases where poor females have made a false step, have not many rash and unforgiving parents and masters prevented a return, by shutting the door against them when they would have returned ? as if, by that one act, which an artless unsuspecting young creature hath been betrayed into; and, perhaps, after the long deep-laid schemes of an unprincipled villain, she were no longer meriting shelter or protection? What resemblance is here to Jesus? He came in quest of wanderers, strangers, and enemies to him by wicked works! And we shut our door to our own offspring, when seeking forgiveness! What a mercy is it to our whole nature, that when it was universally found wandering from God, it was not left and turned out to perish for ever! What a mercy was it to my poor soul, that be who when I sought him not, yet sought me, and not only gave the opportunity of returning, but inclined my heart to return, by overcoming the enmity of my nature! And what a mercy it is to every poor lamb of his fold, that he will not leave it a prey to the destroyer, but will seek it out, and bring it home
in his arms, though left more than half dead by the great enemy of souls!
Let parents, and masters, and mistresses, bear with me, while I add, that to all who are entrusted with the spiritual guardianship of the young females of their families, it becomes a very solemn subject of inquiry, whether many are not drawn into prostitution from such causes, which might, by a contrary treatment, have been recovered from the first evil of seduction. And however faulty, in the first instance, the young woman herself may have been, yet, in the case where no pains afterwards are taken for her recovery, and, still worse than this, where her return is forbidden, when she would have returned, and the home where she might have found shelter for repentance is shut against her, surely it must strike every thinking mind, that, besides the unnatural cruelty of the act, there is moreover attached to it an awful responsibility. And will not every renewed transgression of the poor excluded female fall at the parent's or the master's door, with all the train of involved consequences which follow, in the everlasting ruin of both soul and body.
(To be continued.)
TO BRITAIN. 1840.
The richest gem of ocean's breast,
Her weaker sister of the West.
With bounteous hand her want supplies,
Her Cliristian sympathy denies.
"Tis not her glory that enthron'd
Th’unrivald Empress of the deep,
Where'er her conquering Navies sweep.
All that her Christian sons would claim,
Salvation in Emmanuel's name.
To seek the sheep that go astray,
And lead them to the better way.
The shield of mercy to extend,
And lead her to the sinner's friend.
On all beneath their fostering care?
For such, a guilty nation spare.
To occupy till he appear,
Glow brighter with the opening year.
THE GOOD NURSE. The following note relates to a servant received by the writer from the Probationary House of the London Female Mission.] MY DEAR MRS. PILKINGTON,
It has been my wish long ere this to have spared Mary Anne to call and see you; but illness has prevented me; and with difficulty I write these few lines; but thought it would give you pleasure to hear that Mary Anne gives much satisfaction, and I thank the Almighty for having inclined your heart to select me so kind and attentive a nurse. Her health, poor girl, appears the only obstacle. She suffers much head
ache at times ; but having been long in the school of affliction, I have learnt to feel for another, and Mr. B— has kindly permitted me to engage a girl to assist her until I am able to do so myself.
I must conclude with the sincere hope that success may continue to attend the labours of
dear partner, and that'
remain unshaken to the end.
LESSONS FROM THE BOOK OF NATURE.
THE CLOSING YEAR.
ONE wreath to deck thy faded brow,
One strain to bid thee sad farewell,
Shall sound, Old Year, thy parting knell;
The bell that shall announce thy fate;
And pleasure's shade shall haunt thy bier,
In shadowy form sliall hover near.
Spring's flowers all too quickly faded,
E'en till her sunny hours were shaded ;
Beneath the sudden tempest's swell ;
O'er brightest days some storm would sweep-
M. S. lines. The melancholy aspect of nature may well give a sombre colouring to our reflections, even were there no recollections to tinge them with a sad hue. Who