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dissuading the people from read. I land ; and that makes them maing our Tracts ; and saying, ny times very anxious to see that the Irish are not to be cheat that country where the Lord ed out of their religion. But dwells in such a wonderful manHe, whose church is his glory, ner, that they asked, “ Mother, will do his own pleasure, and es- O let us go some time there, to tablish his own kingdom in op- see such dear people !” With position to all the powers of me, are John and my dear sister Anti-Christ !"

Martha. We have all for body

and soul that may be necessary. The following Letter from Mary,* | We are with our brother Kich

one of the Hottentots who were erer and his wife, who behave in England a few years ago, to as a brother and sister to us, and the secretary, of the Lordon take care of 115. O that I may Missionary Society, will prolably be agreeable to our Readers.

be more thankful to my dear - Dear Brother,

Lord and Saviour for his faithful“ I was very happy to hear of ness and wonderful goodness! you, our dear friend, chiefly that Help me, dear brother, to pray ; you continued in good health or to thank for me: I can do nobody and soul. Through the thing without the Spirit of goodness of our Lord Cod, i Christ ! Many times I spake have found my dear children in with cur brother Kicherer about a good situation in Africa ; the all the dear friends : (with tears Lord has, in a particular man in my eyes I must confess it) ner, taken care of them ; but chiesiy it grieveci me, when I remy poor child Christian, who collected the last farewell to Mr. was born in Holland, I have lost | Hardcastle, then I sink away. by death in Africa ; but I trust what shall it be when we meet he died to go into everlasting one another again in heaven, life. The Lord has given me

when never shall have place a again a son in his place, who is separating! · about four months old, and is in

is be so kind as to give my good health. Three of my

affectionate Christian love to all other children I have not yet

the dear brothers and sisters seen ; because of the great dis- with whom I have had the hon. iance we are from one anotier : or to converse! () what wonderbut the Lord gives me to be sull, ful love I feel for them ! in bis way, and I truol I shall

“ Now, farewell, my dear sec them in his time. O may I brother, remember me : I hope see them in heaven! What hap to remember you, in particular, piness will it bé for me to have at the throne of grace. The brought forth children for ever- Lord God dwell in your house, Jasting life ! My dear children in your heart, in the hearts of who are with me, I tell them, your family, and make all things many times, the happiness which well. I experienced in that dear Eng

I am, dear Sir, with much es.

teem, your affectionate sister in * A particular account of Mary the Lord Jesus, was given in the first Series of the

MARY VAN Rooy," Con: ecticut Evangelical Magazine. Graaff Reinet, January 8, 1807.

POETRY

The Departing Christian.
BEHOLD! the solemn hour is come,
By heav'n assign'd, that seals my doom,
That lays this head beneath the sod,
And bears my willing soul to God.
To the lone vault or church-yard borne,
This dust must soon to dust return;
Soon must my lifeless corpse be laid
Amongst the long-forgotten dead.
I hear the death-bell's mournful sound,
I see my weeping friends around,
I hear affection's bursting sigh,
And read despair in friendship's cye.
Vain sighs! and unavailing tears,
Death's ear is deaf to human prayers ;
Nor skill, nor pow'r, nor love can save,
When God commands us to the grave.
Yet through the deep sepulchral gloon,
That wraps the mansion of the tomb,
I see, with rapturous delight,
A beam of heav'n's effulgent light.
Jesus, my Lord, I know, once made

The dark and lonely grave his bed ;
Thence he arose, and led the way
To yonder world of cloudless day.
I trace him in his glorious flight
From earth to heav'n's sublimest height :
And hark! he calls my spirit home ;
Jesus, my Lord, I hear, I come.
With joy, thy mandate I obey,
Let not thy chariot long delay ;
I see my long expected prize,
A crown of glory in the skies.
Then weep not, fond, afflicted friends,
Death is the angel Jesus sends
To bear the sainted soul on high,
Beyond the reach of human eye.
The race is run, in duty's path,
Fought the good fight, and kept the faith;
Now leaning on my Saviour's breast,
My spirit seeks its final rest.

For me, kind friends, then grieve no more,
My heart's at rest; the conflict's o'er
Heav'n's glories break upon my view ;
Adieu, dear friends ; vain world, adieu.

[Phil. Mag.

Hymn to Charity. COME, daughter of celestial birth, Adorn'd with every native grace ; On angel wing descend to earth, And there unveil thy angel face. From realms of joy and seats of bliss, In robes of radiant light she comes, Her voice the harbinger of peace, Meek-wreath'd her brow, her breath perfumes. Beneath her love-illumin'd eye, Th’insensate burn, the friendless glow; Her smiles repress the risen sigh, Her sympathy the tear of woe. The scornful leer, the haughty crest, With mute long-suffering she endures ; The oppressor's wrongs, the witling's jest, In her own wounded breast immures. O'er the long list of crimes conceiv'd, Of guilt matur’d, or green with youth; She weeps inexorably griev'd, Rejoicing only in the truth. For hearts malignant, slow to love, And swift to injure or complain ; Her bosom heaves, her sorrows move, She pardons first, then loves again. Yet ne'er with curious heart attends, The whispers of perfidious fame; Nor envies when the concave rends, Of honor'd names with loud acclaim, Nor yet from aspect, seeming ill, Suspects some dark and deep design; Hope scatters hovering clouds at will, And looks beyond the dubious sign. And e’en when spots and stains appear, Her mingled grief and pity move, She bids the frail her mantle wear, And hides the deeds she cannot love.

To humble vales of worth obscure,
Careless of toil and shame descends,
Exalts the friendless, and the poor
From scorn's depressing frown defends.
The meed to virtuous deeds decreed,
With virgin blush she still declines ;
False virtues only columns need,
In its own beams true glory shines.
Grace flows unmix'd thro' all her mien,
For love unícigned rules her breast,
And there immutably serene,
Peace and immortal glory rest.
Thou loveliest daughter of the skies !
Enamor'd with thy peerless charms,
To thy embrace my spirit flics,
And secks a refuge in thy arms.
If biiss be e'er design'd for me,
Oh! make me thine own image bear ;
In tho't, act, end, be one with thee,
And in thy triumphs ever share !

Donations to the Missionary Society of Connecticid

Sept. 1. Rev. Joel Byington, being for contributions col.

lected by him in New Settlements................S 6 49 16. Ebenezer J. Leavenworth, do. do. 8 30

S 14 79

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