infatuated pursuers as really to be pitied as the maniac raving in his cell. The man, who looks abroad with such truth of feeling, sees the slaves of mammon tottering beneath the burdens of shining dust they have accumulated, and striving daily to increase their already insup portable weight; ever murmuring that they cannot render it heavier than that of their neighbor. He sees such an one even sadly disheartened, that he is unable to multiply the instruments of his ruin so fast as he desires. Deeply in love with their miseries, he observes them refuse to forego the gratification of avarice, although in exchange for a crown of glory. Such appear indeed objects of compassion, to the mind of that man, whose vision is cleared of the fogs of sense, and whose faith bears any considerable resemblance to the pattern in the unexplored worlds he is about to enter.

In the elevation of such a state of mind, the possessor of it becomes astonished at his former stupidity. He wonders that the dream of happiness on earth should ever have been indulged; or if begun in the delirium of the passions, he still wonders, that every occurrence in life did not banish the vision. If the phantom of wealth were earnestly pursued, how unfounded must the delusion now appear. How unaccountable that the fluctuations of fortune and the entire loss of great estates so frequently witnessed, did not dissolve the charm and set him free. There is something so captivating in the possession of riches, that all the lamps of reason, philosophy, and experience, are ineffectual guides, and rarely indeed, if ever, do they afford light enough to conduct the bewildered traveller out of the wilderness, in whose mazes he is lost,-a wilderness where he receives many a wound from the thorn while attempting to pluck the rose. To effect the great escape which those make who would enter the paradise of God, more powerful aid is required. The two states of being must be made to approximate each other; the effulgence beaming from eternity must be reflected on the fields of time; the wanderer who seeks the right path must learn, at whatever expense, the inferiority of the feeble gleam of the taper of human reason, to the strong and steady light beaming from the oracles of Revelation.

Ask a man, who has begun to walk in such a light, respecting his former hopes, and learn the opinion he now entertains of them. Were they founded on the patronage of the little, sometimes misnamed the great? Why did not the selfishness, the false pretensions, and the treacheries always before him, teach the folly of such expectations? Did he never wish to escape from his slavery? Did he ever believe that ought which the world calls good or great ever merited the appellation? Whatever he may once have imagined, the unreasonableness of such a belief is now so plain, that the momentary indulgence of it seems impossible.

Here let us consider a few of the advantages of an expanded view of the destinies of an immortal mind.

1. During the time of its continuance, the spell is broken; that species of enchantment, which hides the true appearance of things, and portrays them in colors not their own, is dissolved. The relation of the present to the future world is better understood; the one is considered, as it is, only a short introduction to the other. One of the

grand errors of multitudes, is that, though they profess to believe the declarations of Scripture, they live just as if assured that there could be no hereafter. The man who does but half believe the doctrine of a future judgment, will not often bring before his mind a representation of the amazing solemnities of that day. He who doubts whether sin will be punished at all, or supposes if at all, it will not be as the Savior declared, will have very little solicitude about repentance, or the pardon of his offences. Supposing God to be altogether such an one as himself, he will not look chiefly towards the approaching state, nor close his eyes on the toys which now afford such a pleasant fascination. Let any one persuade himself, that the present state is both the dawn and the sunset of his being, that the closing of the tomb is the close of conscious existence, and he will plunge as deep as possible in the stagnant pool of earthly gratification.

2. As a consequence of the clearing up of the intellectual vision, and the strength it acquires by a free exercise in the light of truth, the person learns to fix a more just value on earthly possessions. Estimating an offered pleasure according to its purity and continuance, our decision should be exceedingly prompt, that what at best has so much alloy, and is of but a momentary duration, cannot deserve the eager pusuit of a soul enduring forever. Nothing can be worth an anxious care, of which the possession can hereafter afford no happiness, nor the want of it occasion any misery. To him who looks at both worlds, what cause for envy is it that a neighbor has a stately mansion;-that he riots in luxury, and that flatterers crowd his gate? By the nobler conceptions, which pure Christianity furnishes to the mind, the subject of them acquires a habit of judging more of human pursuits. He stands on an eminence, takes a wider survey than before of the busy field around him. His prospect is not, so often as that of other men, obscured by passion. Though not absolutely freed from error, still by constantly looking to the Infinite Fountain of Wisdom, he will receive supplies adapted to his necessities. By attending with deep humility to the instructions of the divine word, he has solid ground for his support, and is preserved from those fatal delusions which would endanger his soul. The vigor with which a mind, accustomed to converse with heaven, rises from the dust, and tries its pinions in anticipation of its final departure, seems an earnest of its support when the wing is extended and the course begun.

3. By such meditations the littleness of sublunary affairs is more fairly contrasted with the magnificence of eternity, as presented to the eye of faith. Turning his eye towards the glories to be revealed, hope performs for the Christian the office of immediate vision. His languishing graces are strengthened. If a recollection of ages past call up before him the former tenants of this gloomy vale, how does his soul expand at the remembrance of those men of God, who "once were mourners here below," but now through faith and patience inherit the promises. Though he may have been indulging despondency, does not a new energy invigorate his frame when the holy lives and sublime devotion of Isaiah, Daniel, and Paul, are placed in vivid colors before his imagination? Picturing to himself their true

dignity, while opposing the wickedness of a corrupt age, their dauntless resolution in making tyrants tremble on their thrones, and their holy extasy in communion with the "rapt seraph that adores and burns," an almost celestial transport fills his soul, sudden as the lightning darts across a midnight cloud.

4. Although by amplifying the views of the believer, his fondness for temporal possessions is diminished, still, as he thus learns more of the value of the soul, his activity will be greatly increased. Having understood, that all men have a great work to do, he will consider idleness criminal. He will know, that the most laborious diligence, exercised each day in seeking to promote the salvation of his fellow men, will not, in the world he is about to enter, appear to have been too great; and that the most strenuous efforts alone will appear most rational. The stupidity of sinners here will certainly appear to have been no less than madness to the tenant of the world to come; the cold indifference of those called Christians, who have neglected the souls of their fellow men, will seem unaccountable cruelty. The man whose heart is deeply afflicted at the miseries which encircle him, will be earnest to bring the remedy within the reach of every sufferer. In doing this, he must make many sacrifices. By an intelligent survey of the state of society in any place, a susceptible conscience will not be lulled asleep. Motives of the best kind, and most powerful action, urge the benevolent man to go forward. The longer his attention is directed to the calls of suffering humanity, the more numerous and importunate are the cries for relief. This has been exemplified in the lives of eminent philanthropists. When once they had begun their labors of love, they found no point of rest. Their zeal in the cause has also kept pace with their knowledge of the woes to be mitigated, and has borne them through a series of toils, which to an indifferent spectator seems incredible. Z. Y.

For the Panoplist.

MISSIONARY SHIP.

MR. EDITOR,-On the last Saturday evening, I sat down with my family, to read the concluding part of the Report of the Prudential Committee. When we had finished the Report, we were naturally led to a conversation relative to the missions from our country. Though accustomed, as all the members of my family had been, to do something for the advancement of this cause, we were of the opinion, that we had not done as much as we ought to have done. Among other things, important to the successful prosecution of the great enterprise upon which the Board have embarked, a "MISSION SHIP" seemed to us, as ultimately of high importance. Whether the time had arrived, in which it was best for the Board to be possessed of this carrier of heavenly treasure to the nations, we did not feel ourselves at liberty confidently to determine. Our confidence in the wisdom and integrity of the Board is entire. Still, however, it seemed to be a subject of sufficient importance to invite the attention of the Christian public. And that we might avoid the censure, "they say

and do not," we pledged ourselves to each other for an amount toward the object, according, as we supposed, with our circumstances.

Sir, this "winged messenger" has long been the subject of thought with me. I am among the number of those, who would wish a messenger from the Board, to visit, in a ship at their command, the dif ferent stations of our Foreign Missions. How would it cheer the hearts of our beloved missionaries, to welcome, on the shores of a heathen land, the immediate representative of their patrons. What new life would it wake up in the lovers of missions, when on his return he should say, "I have seen them, and have witnessed their untired zeal in the great work of obeying the command of Christ. have heard them declaring to the heathen, in their own language, the wonderful works of God. I have seen them clothed with the armor of the Gospel, attacking victoriously the fortresses of idolatry. I have seen the poor heathen, once hedged in with superstition, and drunk with pollution, rising into a correct estimate of his immortality and his God; and slaking his thirst of sin at the fountain of holiness." Would not the information of such a record, throw off the drowsiness which sin casts upon the heart of piety, and rouse to vigorous and extensive effort the hand, that has hitherto tendered a stinted and a grudging charity?

I am also, Sir, among the number inclined to believe, that it is not necessary, as a guarantee to the integrity of missionaries, that they should part with home and country with the assured prospect of seeing them no more. They should indeed be willing to part with home, and even life, for the name of the Lord Jesus. Nor should they think of returning without the unqualified approbation of the Board. But what would be the effect upon the great cause in which they are embarked, should some of the distant brethren return after the lapse of years, and go through our country? How many prayers would their presence, their information, and their zeal inspire? How would it augment the resources of the mission. Would not the loss of a few years among the heathen be doubly repaid?

I will not enlarge on the convenience of having a ship always at the command of the Board, nor upon the superior advantages of missionaries conducted by friends of the Redeemer; nor upon the profits which might accrue to the Board from trade.

If such a ship be desirable, can it be obtained?

I believe it can. Let every person devote something from the profits of his business to this good work, and it is done. Let the pious lawyer consecrate a portion of his gains. Let the merchant cast in of his abundance. Let the minister of Christ do as of the ability which God giveth. Let every tradesman increase the store. Let every agriculturist consecrate, in the ensuing spring, such a portion of land as his circumstances may admit, and cultivate it expressly for the Lord. Whatever it shall produce may be sold, and the proceeds devoted to this sacred purpose. Let those "that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters," return a thank offering to God for their safety and success. Finally, let the widow cast in her mite. Let the child be permitted to give what he has gained as the reward of merit. And when the arm of God is bearing

to her destined port this ship, deeply laden with the treasure of the Gospel, may every one enjoy the pleasing assurance, that he has a venture on board.

Thus shall there be an abundance. On the first Sabbath in January, 1821, let it be understood, that a collection will be taken up in all the churches, which favor this righteous cause; when an opportunity will be presented for the collection of this consecrated property into the treasury of the Lord.

Such, Mr. Editor, are my views of the practicability of raising a "Missionary Ship." Most gladly do I descry from afar her signal. It is not indicative of commercial pursuit. It is not the "star spangled banner," which waves proudly over the ocean, bearing to wretched nations the thunders of her war. It is the emblem of the Prince of peace. It spreads itself to the breeze, and points the way where are the habitations of cruelty; itself the bearer of an antidote to their woe. What joy is felt in distant nations, when rising upon the mountain wave, she proclaims her approach. How does the missionary already there, triumph in her as his country's glory. It is a goodly sight. May the vision be real.

MISCELLANEOUS.

ON THE ARTIFICES OF DISSIMULATION.

For the Panoplist.

MEN are fond of giving false names to their known crimes. The effect of external appearance is well understood. To keep up the appearance without the reality, and make the shadow pass for the substance, occupies no inconsiderable share of the labors of the present world. This is sometimes attempted under circumstances which render the true motives of depraved beings a subject of difficult solution.

There are indeed thousands of instances, in which the covering is a flimsy one, and the pretender cannot hope to conceal his motives from the discerning; nevertheless, in public debates and official documents, such men as boldly and impudently assert the purity of their intentions, as if assured, that no one had the penetration to detect their imposture. Such proceedings are moreover often attended by circumstances of peculiar aggravation. A partizan wishes to carry a measure founded on the most complete selfishness, and demanded only by the ambition of a few. The design is so much at war with every principle of virtue and honesty, that with the utmost impudence he is sometimes ashamed to avow it, lest its true name should be the pioneer of its ruin. At other times, the fear of defeat seems to be lost, and detection is no further dreaded than as it may influence a few timid spirits, who have yet a lingering respect for truth, and are not quite prepared to go all lengths with her enemies. But among those, who profess to share no partnership with vice, it is astonishing to observe with what yielding facility they abandon their true interest, and resign themselves and their families, their country and posterity, to the control of laws unjust in operation, as detestable in their origin: VOL. XVI.

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