wasted, have pressed as a heavy load upon the conscience. "Time wasted is existence; used, is life." Let the friend, but more especially the minister, of religion think upon his high calling. The crown is worth striving for. It is a crown of glory which fadeth not away. And whilst we are looking to" the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, freely by God's grace," (Rom. iii. 24.) for justification, let the activity, the labours, the watchings, the prayers, the acts of mercy, of the same blessed Saviour, be imitated by us. For, in the language of our church, "He is not only a sacrifice for sin, but also an ensample of godly life."

R. P. B.

Tothe Editorofthe Christian Observer. In most of our churches where there are organs, it is customary to have a voluntary played, during the time the congregation are dispersing; the intention of which I presume is to overpower the bustle occasioned by the general rising to depart, and the loud whispers which but too commonly follow the conclusion of the service. Judging, however, from my own feelings, it is a custom "more honoured in the breach than the observance;" for, why should not an assembly of Christians accustom themselves to disperse quietly and reverently from the house of God? But, even if the "pealing organ's lengthened strain" be admissible at the close of Divine service, it is surely objectionable when the service is only partially concluded. I refer to those occasions on which the holy communion is administered. Those who intend to participate in this sacrament, instead of being able to collect their thoughts into a holy fitness for this duty, by endeavouring to remember the suitable admonitions which may have been addressed "to all such as are religiously and devoutly disposed" to come to the Lord's Table, are not only disturbed by the sounds of the

organ, but too often the very strains which meet the ear are calculated to inspire any feelings rather than those of devotion. Perhaps it may be urged, that we should go to the house of God with hearts carefully prepared to engage in all the services of the place; and that, if thus prepared, our minds would not be so easily distracted from our purpose. This indeed is true; but those who know their own hearts, are aware how difficult it is to bring them into a devotional frame, how much more difficult still to keep them so; and it is therefore of consequence that every known cause of interruption should be avoided, especially in our churches.

Sacred music is undoubtedly a most delightful and animating part of public worship, calculated to inspire holy joy and pious desires, when the strains are adapted to words becoming a Christian to use and a congregation, to join in. It is not of course to this-very far from it but only to an improper interruption to the thoughts and feelings suitable to a sacred occasion by distracting sounds without words, that I offer the above objections. P. M. M.

Tothe Editorofthe Christian Observer.

I COPY the following from the public papers for the sake of grounding on it a remonstrance, which without any notice will suggest itself to every serious reader, in perusing the paragraph.

"Monday, at noon, at the accustomed place of execution on Penenden Heath, the awful sentence of the law was carried into effect on the body of Thomas Coombs, who, at the late Kent assizes, was found guilty of the murder of Thomas Morgan, at Beckenham. From the first moment the prisoner entered the county gaol, the magnitude of the offence imputed to him, and the probability of his suffering the

heaviest penalty the law knows of, pointed him out as an object of the more peculiar notice of the worthy chaplain, who throughout has paid the utmost attentions to him. These have been but badly received: the prisoner for the most part displayed a spirit of sullen indifference, and when questioned as to his participation in the murder of which he has been convicted, he on most occasions became violent, declaring that he had confessed the extent of his sins to Almighty God in secret, and that he was not disposed to repeat his confessions in public. Since his conviction he has slept but little, and on the last night of his existence he dozed only for about an hour. Early in the morning of Sunday he was visited by the Rev. Chaplain, who endeavoured to bring him to a suitable state of mind for the reception of the holy sacrament, and most particularly pointed out to him the necessity of making á candid avowal of his guilt or innocence in respect to the offence of which he had been found guilty. He promptly answered that he was innocent; and he was then asked, if that were the case, why he did not attempt to establish it at the trial. He replied, What would be the use, when it was pre-determined that I should be found guilty? It was the reward of one hundred pounds that did for me.' The strong circumstantial evidence obtained from the dove-tailing of the tobacco paper was then pointed out to him; and he answered, What of that? It was easy to tear a tobacco-paper, and put part of it into the gun, and then swear that they found it so. A hundred pounds will tempt men to many acts.' Several other parts of the testimony were pointed out to him; and his reply to each was, The hundred pounds reward did for me.' He was asked why he did not account for the possession of the fruit he had sold. To this inquiry he made no answer; and a little before eleven o'clock he was conducted into the chapel, where the

6

solemn ceremony of the administra tion of the sacrament was performed, in the course of which he was asked by the Rev. Chaplain, whether he was innocent of the charge alleged against him. To this inquiry he returned no answer; and it was repeated, but he still remained silent. He was then asked whether he was guilty of the offence imputed to him. To which he answered, Don't disturb my mind by inquiries: I wish to have nothing to say to the question altogether. Do you think I would tell a lie on the subject? What! tell a lie under the circumstances of my present case? No, never.' Under all the peculiarities of the case, the sacrament was at last administered to him, and was received without an avowal of guilt or innocence; but the manner of the convict left an impression that he was in his own mind assured of the justice of his sentence, and that he was only withheld from acknowledging his guilt by a fear of what might be said of him after his death. The culprit was a Bristol man, and served his time to a tallow-chandler. About ten years ago he was married, but had not seen his wife for several years."

-

On what principle, I would ask, is the holy communion thus administered to condemned malefactors; often under circumstances the most painful and revolting? Is it for the supposed good of the individual, as a quietus to his conscience, or an opus operatum passport to heaven? Or is it for the good of society, under the hope that the solemnity of the occasion will induce the culprit to make useful disclosures, and at least to confess his own guilt, to the relief of the minds of prosecutors, judges, jurymen, and the community at large? Or is it merely because the custom has long prevailed without any due warrant of reason or Scripture? Assuredly whatever may be the cause, the effect is most unhappy. An ignorant, or thought

less, or perhaps (as in the case which has given rise to these remarks) a hardened criminal," with a lie in his right hand," is permitted, and in some instances, I fear, expected or urged, to partake of the mystical emblems of the body and blood of Christ; thus outraging his Maker, and "eating and drinking his own condemnation, not discerning the Lord's body." In no case ought this solemn sacrament to be administered to a condemned criminal, without in the first place a strongly expressed desire on his own part to receive it; and in the second, a reasonable ground for hoping that he is acquainted with the nature of the ordinance, and approaches it in a humble and contrite spirit, with a conviction of the enormity of his offences, including especially the crime for which he is to suffer, and a desire to seek salvation through Him whose death be professes to shew forth.

To argue these points at length, would be utterly superfluous: the only wonder to a religious mind will be by what strange conjuncture of circumstances their importance ever came to be overlooked or undervalued; and most happy shall I be, if these brief hints should lead to a serious consideration of the subject, and the consequent disuse of so injurious and profane a practice.

MONITOR.

Tothe Editorofthe Christian Observer. In looking over a late Number of your work, my attention was attracted by a letter on the composition of religious tracts and tales. I am particularly anxious to recal the attention of your readers to that part of your correspondent's com munication, in which he urges the impropriety of fabricating circumstances calculated to diminish in children those sentiments of respect which a child ought always to feel towards its parents. As an illustra tion of this, I might mention a tract

་་།

intended expressly for the instruction and encouragement of Sunday scholars, in which an actual breach of obedience on the part of the child, so far from being reprobated and discouraged, is spoken of in such a manner as cannot fail of making it appear not only free from censure, but even right and com-> mendable. The story related is this: A poor boy in Ireland had the misfortune to have a parent, who, not being very anxious for his son's intellectual improvement, or perhaps thinking, according to his view of things, that his child might be more profitably employed, strictly enjoined him to desist frequenting the school. In defiance, however, of this injunction, the boy continued going, till at length the exasperated parent had recourse to threats and punishments, all of which proved ineffectual. Now, however laudable might be this boy's attachment to his school, surely a father had an undoubted right to please himself respecting his son's going; and no person who has the least sense of the duties enjoined in the Scriptures, can possibly justify the boy's conduct, which was a flagrant breach of filial obedience, and a violation of the Fifth Commandment. It is the undoubted duty of every child to be subject to the will of his parent, and to obey every command of his that is not plainly opposed to the will of God. I allude to this par+ ticular tract merely in illustration of your correspondent's argument. Many others more or less excep tionable might be adduced; and I am happy therefore that the subject has been noticed in your pages, with a view to the cure of the evil. W. D.

For the Christian Observer.

COWPER'S Letters. In our notice of the lately published Letters of Cowper, in our last volume, page 508, the discussion

which we thought it right to enter into on some statements of the Quarterly Review, prevented our giving any extracts from the work itself. We, however, promised to supply this defect on some future occasion, and shall now lay before our readers a selection of extracts from the first volume, which we may probably follow up in some future Number with a few passages from the second. We have studied variety in our selection, and have included some paragraphs of a lively kind, as well as others which throw a melancholy light upon the nature of that aberration of mind which embittered so many of Cowper's best years. It will be very clear to every impartial observer, that his religion was not the cause of his gloom: indeed, bis whole history proves that religion was his solace and delight, till a deranged intellect deprived him of its enjoyments.

To Joseph Hill, Esq., Jan. 21, 1769. "I rejoice with you in your recovery, and that you have escaped from the hands of one from whose hands you will not always escape. Death is either the most formidable or the most comfortable thing we have in prospect, on this side of eternity. To be brought near to him, and to discern neither of these features in his face, would argue a degree of insensibility, of which I will not suspect my friend, whom I know to be a thinking man. You have been brought down to the sides of the grave, and you have been raised again by Him who has the keys of the invisible world; who opens, and none can shut; who shuts, and none can open. I do not forget to return thanks to Him on your behalf, and to pray that your life, which He has spared, may be devoted to his service. Behold! I stand at the door and knock,' is the word of Him, on whom both our mortal and immortal life depends; and, blessed be his name, it is the word of one who wounds only that He may heal, and who waits

to be gracious. The language of every such dispensation is, Prepare to meet thy God.' It speaks with the voice of mercy and goodness; for without such notices, whatever preparation we might make for other events, we should make none for this. My dear friend, I desire and pray, that when this last enemy shall come to execute an unlimited commission upon us, we may be found ready, being established and rooted in a well-grounded faith in His name, who conquered and triumphed over him upon his cross."

To the same, June 27, 1772. "I only write to return you thanks for your kind offer-Agnosco veteris vestigia flammæ. But I will endeavour to go on without troubling you. Excuse an expression that dishonours your friendship; I should rather say, it would be a trouble to myself, and I know you will be generous enough to give me credit for the assertion. I had rather want many things, any thing indeed that this world could afford me, than abuse the affection of a friend. I suppose you are sometimes troubled upon my account. But you need not. I have no doubt it will be seen, when my days are closed, that I served a Master who would not suffer me to want any thing that was good for me. He said to Jacob, I will surely do thee good; and this he said, not for his sake only, but for ours also, if we trust in Him. This thought relieves me from the greatest part of the distress I should else suffer in my present circumstances, and enables me to sit down peacefully upon the wreck of my fortune."

To the Rev. John Newton, May 28, 1781.

"The season is wonderfully improved within this day or two; and if these cloudless skies are continued to us, or rather if the cold winds do not set in again, promises you a pleasant excursion, as far, at least, as the weather can conduce to make it such. You seldom complain of too much sunshine; and if

you are prepared for a heat somewhat like that of Africa, the south walk in our long garden will exactly suit you. Reflected from the gravel, and from the walls, and beating upon your head at the same time, it may possibly make you wish you could enjoy for an hour or two that immensity of shade afforded by the gigantic trees still growing in the land of your captivity. If you could spend a day now and then in those forests, and return with a wish to England, it would be no small addition to the number of your best pleasures. But pennæ non homini date. The time will come perhaps (but death must come first) when you will be able to visit them with out either danger, trouble, or expense; and when the contemplation of those well-remembered scenes will awaken in you emotions of gratitude and praise surpassing all you could possibly sustain at present. In this sense, I suppose, there is a heaven upon earth at all times, and that the disembodied spirit may find a peculiar joy arising from the contemplation of those places it was formerly conversant with, and, so far at least, be reconciled to a world it was once so weary of, as to use it in the delightful way of thankful recollection," &c. &c. &c.

To the same, March 14, 1782. "I was not unacquainted with Mr. B's extraordinary case, before you favoured me with his letter and his intended dedication to the Queen, though I am obliged to you for a sight of those two curiosities, which I do not recollect to have ever seen till you sent them. I could, how ever, were it not a subject that would make us all melancholy, point out to you some essential differences between his state of mind and my own, which would prove mine to be by far the most deplorable of the two. I suppose no man could despair, if he did not apprehend something singular in the circumstances of his own story, something that discriminates it from that of every Christ. Observ. No. 277.

other man, and that induces despair as an inevitable consequence. You may encounter his unhappy persuasion with as many instances as you please, of persons who, like him, having renounced all hope, were yet restored; and may thence infer that he, like them, shall meet with a season of restoration ;-but it is in vain. Every such individual accounts himself an exception to all rules, and therefore the blessed reverse that others have experienced affords no ground of comfortable expectation to him. But you will say, it is reasonable to conclude that as all your predecessors in this vale of misery and horror have found themselves delightfully disappointed at last, so will you:-I grant the reasonableness of it: it would be sinful perhaps, because uncharitable, to reason otherwise; but an argument, hypothetical in its nature, however rationally conducted, may lead to a false conclusion; and, in this instance, so will yours. But I forbear. For the cause above mentioned, I will say no more, though it is a subject on which I could write more than the mail would carry. I must deal with you as I deal with poor Mrs. Unwin, in all our disputes about it, cutting all controversy short by an appeal to the event.'

cr

To the same, Jan. 26, 1783.

"It is reported among persons of the best intelligence at Olneythe barber, the schoolmaster, and the drummer of a corps quartered at this place, that the belligerent powers are at last reconciled, the articles of the treaty adjusted, and that peace is at the door. I saw this morning, at nine o'clock, a group of about twelve figures very closely engaged in a conference, as I suppose, upon the same subject. The scene of consultation was a blacksmith's shed, very comfortably screened from the wind, and directly opposed to the morning sun. Some held their hands behind them, some had them folded across their bosom, and others had thrust them

E