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would be removed, and he left it to those who should hereafter be permitted to enter into the land of promise to fulfil his wish.
T'hus closes the book of Genesis, after giving us an account of the most remarkable events which occurred in the space of two thousand three hundred and seventy years. Let us go, shortly, through its contents.
It begins with the creation of the world, four thousand and four years before our Saviour came upon earth :then the fall of man:
-Cain and Abel: - the line of descent from Adam to Noah the Aood :-the generations of the sons of Noah :-the tower of Babel :--the line of descent from Shem to Abram :the lives of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob--and, lastly, of Joseph.
You will be glad to know whether you recollect the principal subjects of the books that we have ġone through. Try then whether you can answer the following questions.
In how many days did God make the world?
What was the state of all things when they first came out of His hand ?
How did sin enter?
Which chapter gives us the history of Cain and Abel ?
Where shall we find the account of the flood ?
What chapter contains the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah?
How many persons were saved from the flood ? By what means ?
What sin did Noah commit after coming out of the ark?
What was the occasion of building the tower of Babel?
By what honourable title is Abraham called in the New Testament?
Who are accounted his children?
The Providence of God.
391 To which of his children were the promises confined?
What children had Isaac ?
What remarkable vision had Jacob, after leaving his father's house?
Whom did he marry ?
Where did Jacob die ?
How many years does the book of Genesis give the history of?
THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD.
It is a great presumption to ascribe our successes to our own management, and not to esteem ourselves upon any blessing, rather as it is the bounty of heaven, than the acquisition of our own prudence. I am very well pleased with a medal which was struck by queen Elizabeth a little after the defeat of the invincible Armada, to perpetuate the memory of that extraordinary event. It is well known how the king of Spain, and others who were the enemies of that great princess, to derogate from her glory, ascribed the ruin of their feet rather to the violence of storms and tempests, than to the bravery of the English.
Queen Elizabeth, instead of looking upon this as a diminution of her honour, valued herself upon such a signal favour of Providence, and, accordingly, on the reverse of the medal above mentioned, has represented a fleet beaten by a tempest, and falling foul upon one another, with that religious inscription, “ He blew with his wind, and they were scattered.”
As arrogance and a conceitedness of our own abilities are very shocking and offensive to men of sense and virtue, we may be sure they are highly displeasing to that Being who delights in an humble mind, and by several of his dispensations seems purposely to shew us, that it was not our own schemes or prudence which caused our advancement.
LETTER FROM MRS. BAXTER.
As your " Visitor" is a work calculated to suit all classes of society, and to convey useful instruction in every sense, I enclose the following extract from a letter of Mrs. Baxter, wife of the celebrated Richard Baxter, which cannot fail to arrest the attention of those readers, who desire to profit by pious hints and examples set before them. Should you agree with myself as to the excellence of the sentiments contained in Mrs. Baxter's letter, I will thank you to insert it in your next Visitor.
And remain, Şir,
A. F. N.
Extract from a Letter of Mrs. Baxter, Wife of the
Rev. Ř. Baxter, to a Friend who had requested her Prayers in her behalf.
I will pray for you according to the best of my knowledge, and will tell you for what, that you may know what to pray for yourself.
ist. I will pray that your thoughts may be turned to the magnifying of God's love, and that you may remember He is as good as He is great, Letter from Mrs. Baxter.
393 and that you may be more sensible of his merey than your own unworthiness.
2dly. I will pray that you may have so lively an impression of your everlasting felicity, as to make you desire to be with Jesus Christ.
3dly. That you may have more self-denial, and more of that humility which makes you little in your own eyes.
4thly. That you may be less tender, and liable to commotion, and less sensible of unkindness, and bodijy dangers, and of sin itself, when the sense of it hinders the sense of mercy. A meek, a quiet, and a patient spirit, is of great price in the sight of the Lord; I will therefore pray that you may be delivered from too much inward passion fear, grief, and discontent.
5thly. I will pray that no creature may seem more regardable or necessary to you than it is, so that you may look on all as walking shadows, vanity, and vexation, further than as they lead you to God, that they be not over-loved, over-valued, overfeared, or over-trusted, or their thoughts too much regarded.
6thly. Above all, I will pray that you may be less self-willed, and not too passionately or inordinately set upon the fulfilling of that will, but may have a will pliant with the will of God, that can change as He would have it, and will follow, not run, before Him, and can endure to be crossed and denied by God and man, without discomposedness, or trouble of mind.
7thly. I will pray that seeming wisdom may not entangle you either to the concealment of any thing that greatly requires your friend's advice, or in the hiding your talents by unprofitable silence as to all good discourse, from the enmity you have to hypocrisy, and that you will not live in sins of omission, for fear of seeming better than you are. By this you may know wherein I think you faulty. The best of our affections have a mixture of imperfections, and therefore need something to purify them. God must be known as our rest, and the best creature to be but a creature.
Miserable world, where we have no fire without smoke, and where our dearest friends are often our greatest grief, and, when we begin to hope in love and joy, before we are aware, we fall into immeasurable measures of distress. Learn by experience, when any condition is inordinately pleasing to thee, to say, From hence may spring my sorrow.
TRUTH. WHEN George Washington was about six years of age, some one made him a present of a hatchet, of which being, like most children, immoderately fond, he went about chopping every thing that came in his way: and, going into the garden, he unluckily tried its edge on an English cherry tree, which he hacked so terribly, as to leave very little hope of its recovery. The next morning his father saw the tree, which was a great favourite, in that condition; and inquired who had done the mischief, declaring that he would not have taken five guineas for the tree ; but nobody could inform him. Presently after, however, George came, with the hatchet in his hand, into the place where his father was, who immediately suspected him of being the culprit.
George,” said the old gentleman, “ do you know who killed that beautiful little cherry tree yonder in the garden?”. The child hesitated for a moment, and then nobly replied, "I can't tell a lie, father; you know I can't tell a lie. I did cut it with my hatchet.”—“ Run to my arms, my boy,” exclaimed the father, “run to my arms. Glad am I, George, that you killed my tree; you have paid me for it a