has been flogged for some trifling offence, or has suffered some undeserved and ignominious chastisement from a brutal overseer; stricken and bleeding, he repairs to such a friend, unburdens his swelling bosom, and shews his lacerated flesh!-Oh! that minister (if not hardened by repeated scenes of suffering) is more than a man, who can repress the burst of indignation that such a view must excite; but this is only a common incident, and Christian meekness and forgiveness will pass it by. The missionary, in such a case, is justified in exhorting his sable brother to submit to the wrong, to pray for his oppressor, and, by his patient conduct and demeanour, to adorn the doctrine of that Redeemer who suffered more than this for him. Thus far the duties of a missionary are clear and definite; he preaches peace and good-will, diligence, charity, and submission-but, sir, have these duties no bounds? Are there no limits to his submission and forbearance? The precise boundaries may be difficult to fix; but surely no man will say they are of unlimited extent. Should the slave be compelled to work on the sabbath-day, he may submit to it, and the sin be upon the master's head; but had that slave any chance of making a successful resistance, how would the case be then? If we are to be guided by the conduct of eminent and pious men in all ages of the church, I boldly assert that he ought to resist it. The command, "REMEMBER the sabbathday, to keep it holy," is solemn, imperative, and unconditional; and would ministers of the gospel dare to set it aside, or bid a slave crouch to a fellow-worm, in preference to that mighty Being, "who taketh up the isles as a very little thing," or bids his fierce tornado roll with irresistible destruction through them? I apprehend not.

But slavery is blackened with a deeper stain than this. The slave may have his wife torn from him, to satiate the brutal desires of his despotic owner; and his daughter may be called to the loathed embrace of the overseer, or of any promiscuous visitor. Slaves, sir, in a state of brutish apathy and ignorance, may be brought, and have been brought, to bear this. But let Christianity once cast its pure and holy effulgence over the scene of these enormities, and their hour is come. If thy brother repent, forgive him seven times, ay, seventy-times seven; we are commanded to do it; and the genuine Christian will obey. But if thy brother harden his neck, if he still triumph in his oppressions and in his. lusts, ought a christianized community of slaves to continue tamely

to bear this worse than Egyptian bondage, and remain passive and consenting spectators of a debauchery so hateful to Heaven and so revolting to man? What would British Christians think themselves justified in doing under such circumstances? But I cannot forget that the white man is my kinsman; and I sincerely pray that he may make a timely restitution, and that humanity may yet achieve a bloodless victory. But, alas! the planter alone is obstinately blind to the signs of the times, he is lost to all prudence, and turns a deaf ear to the reprobation of the world.

Oh, slavery! thou foulest blot in the annals of corrupted man! thou British Juggernaut! when shall thy impious car cease to be drawn? when shall thy involuntary victims cease to writhe under thy tormenting wheels? Oh, that slave-owners would consider! that, for their own and their children's sakes, they would give back to the poor negro his long-lost, but never forfeited, rights!-Rights, which, if not conceded, may one day be wrenched from them by some terrible catastrophe. The poor slave, however, does not ask his freedom as a right, but as a boon. Restore his privileges, admit him into the great social family of Britain, and you will secure his love; he will venerate you as his benefactors; and instead of trembling, as you do now, at "every convulsive effort he makes to break his chain," you might repose in peace, his gratitude would be the tower of your strength, and the bulwark of your safety. But expostulation is in vainlike the fanatics at the temple of Jerusalem, the planters seem resolved to battle against heaven and earth, and to cling to their devoted fabric until they are swallowed in its ruins.

In mercy, then, to the planters themselves, let us refrain from the use of West India produce; let us force upon them the only measure that will save them from the consequences of their guilt. Let every antislavery society in the kingdom establish a depot for East India produce; let the subscriptions be employed to furnish the poorer classes with it at the same price as our West India, our slave-cultured productions: and if the friends of emancipation stand firmly to each other, this long-wishedfor, long-despaired-of victory will be won. But let them remember, that if they fail to act with unanimity and decision, they become the worst enemies of the slave, and will only aggravate the wrongs, the agony, and the wretchedness, they have so long and so fruitlessly deplored.

Kirby Stephen, Jan. 15, 1827.

TRAVELLER.

parts to the north of these counties, the breakfast and supper of the working classes is almost invariably thick porridge, viz. hasty-pudding made of oatmeal coarsely ground, and eaten with milk, buttermilk, or treacle-beer; and the dinner is as invariably potatoes, made palatable by a little of the fat of bacon or mutton, and salt; and as the quantity of this fat is often extremely small, I have no conception of any mode of living being cheaper; the bread too, in these parts, being mostly dried oatcakes. Still, many will prefer this mode of living to that of the lower classes in France; I most certainly should, for one.

The great advocates for soup diet, Rumford and Buchan, admit the necessity of solid food for working people; and the only plea for soup is its cheapness; but where poor people have every thing to buy, they can hardly be more economical than in the purchase of oatmeal, potatoes, milk, and animal fat, as food; so long as they are without a plot of ground for a garden, which two-thirds of the cottages are. However, as necessity is the mother of invention, necessity may have much to teach us in the art of cheap living. Spring Vale.

THOS. BAKEWELL.

ON EVIL-SPEAKING.

"Diliget proximum tuum ut teipsum." "Compescere linguam prima virtus est."

By evil-speaking, I do not mean lying defamation, but the needless exposure of real faults; and I call that a needless exposure, which is uncalled for by the welfare and safety of ourselves or others. That a man may be lawfully called to relate evil of another, is not dènied; but, except in cases which involve the safety of himself or the community, it is seldom allowable to do so, without adopting the process prescribed by our Lord, Matt. xviii. 15-17. "Moreover, if thy brother shall trespass against thee, go and tell him his fault between thee and him alone if he shall hear thee, thou hast gained thy brother. But if he will not hear thee, then take with thee one or two more, that in the mouth of two or three witnesses every word may be established. And if he shall neglect to hear them, tell it unto the church; but if he neglect to hear the church, let him be unto thee as an heathen man and a publican."

In the breast of a person of correct moral feelings, the only emotions which are excited by a view of actual wickedness, are, unfeigned detestation of the crime, and

sincere compassion and sorrow for the offender. This compassion may indeed be combined with a certain indignation; but it is a holy indignation, an indignation so tempered with love, as not to be in any measure vindictive. Now, when dishonourable actions are committed within the knowledge of such person, it is impossible for him to be actuated by any wish to publish them, unless he is satisfied that their concealment would be more mischievous than their disclosure. He regards sin as the curse and reproach of mankind; and therefore, if he had no other reason, he would refrain from exposing the faults and failings of his fellow creatures, because every instance of this kind is an additional reproach to our common nature. In a word, he would be anxious to conceal the fault of his neighbour as far as prudence will allow, as he would be anxious to conceal a fault of his own; in conformity to that comprehensive injunction of our holy religion, "Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself."

But there is deeply implanted in the human heart a love of detraction; a delight in exposing the infirmities and sins of our fellow creatures; the proof of which is, the almost universal prevalence of this vice. Now, this can only be accounted for on the ground of human depravity; it is an irresistible evidence that man has departed from his original uprightness. In the place of that love which "seeketh not its own," his heart is contracted by a miserable selfishness, which discovers itself in pride, envy, malice, &c.; it is these depraved affections that are the true instigators of evilspeaking.

Envy prompts men to this vice. Envy repines, not only at other men's prosperity and happiness, but even at their goodness; at least the envious person could wish others to be less prosperous, less happy, and less excellent than himself. Hence, that cloud which obscures the reputation or the happiness of his neighbour, lights a gleam of infernal joy in his heart, and gives a momentary relief to the gnawings of envy.

Pride instigates to detraction. A proud man thinks highly of himself, and wishes all others to do the same. But then it may happen that he is not the only subject of admiration in the neighbourhood, and hence the praises of the world are so divided amongst numbers, that his share is small and unsatisfactory. The consequence of this is, that he employs all his perspicuity to detect the blemishes of his rivals; and whenever his efforts are successful, he almost literally calls in his friends and his

neighbours, saying, Rejoice with me, for I have made a rich discovery. The fall of a rival he deems an advancement of himself; for he could wish to give the applause of the world a greater concentration, himself being the grand focal point.

If the real sentiments and wishes of one who is labouring under this detestable passion, were exhibited in plain language, it might call up a blush on the reader's face for the degradation of his species. If it would not be a ridiculous stretch of the imagination to attribute rationality and pride to one of the lighted candles in a chandelier, it would not be thought unnatural to make it utter a soliloquy like the following-"Alas! my light is so blended with that of my fellows as to be undistinguishable; at least, no notice is taken of my individual importance. And, although I am confident that I am the most brilliant luminary in the room, insomuch that were all these my dim companions extinguished, I think there would be no great diminution of light; yet not one of the company has sense enough to appreciate, or to notice my superior merits. What course shall I take to obtain celebrity? I wish I could call the attention of the company to the dimness of these poor tapers around me, for that might possibly introduce the subject of my splendour; and I wish still more ardently, that every one of them would absolutely expire, and then I should have nothing to eclipse my radiancy, or rob me of my glory."

If to attribute sentiments like the above to the proud and envious, be not to caricature them, we need not wonder that evilspeaking should be with them a very grateful employment.

Hatred and malice have always a share in generating detraction; and often, indeed, are its direct procreators. "Hateful, and hating one another," is the fearful and most humbling description of the human character, which is given by the pen of inspiration-a description which all experience demonstrates to be just. How easily is the fire of hatred lighted up in the bosom of fallen man! It is difficult, even for the pious, not to hate the man in whose deportment they discover baseness and depravity; still more, if that depravity display itself in a way that is injurious to themselves. But hatred is originated by qualities far less disgusting-by ignorance, clownishness, and stupidity; nay, even the absence of a beautiful countenance and a handsome figure will excite a prejudice in some minds against a person, which will scarcely suffer them to admire even his moral excellencies. Now, if the fire of

hatred be admitted into the heart, it will assuredly belch out its restless lava, "even bitter words."

Another very prolific source of evilspeaking is, the love of talking, the miserable vanity of being thought the depositary of secrets, and the retailer of news. Some are driven into this vice by the extreme barrenness of their minds; by the scantiness of their knowledge, and their inability to engage in rational and useful conversation. These poor creatures are almost to be pitied; although one might assure them, that they had better be sneered at as fools, than detested as villains. Sometimes the defamer betrays the symptoms of a disgusting hypocrisy while the most deadly venom is dropping from his lips, he affects to express himself in a whining, wary, and pious manner, that he may pass for the possessor of a feeling heart and a prudent tongue.

To those who may inquire, "What harm there is in evil-speaking?" I would reply, 1. It injures the person of whom you speak, by detracting so much from the weight and worth of his character in a few moments, as, perhaps, it may require an age to regain. 2. It is injurious to yourselves; by so doing you indulge bad feelings, and thereby offend God. By the same means also you strengthen these vicious passions. But the evil-speaker injures his character in the sight of men. Those who appear to be gratified with his caricatures and witticisms, cannot forbear, the while, to despise him as the possessor of unamiable feelings, and to regard him altogether as a dangerous character, who may one day spend this mischievous and invidious wit upon themselves. Lastly, detraction is hurtful to the person to whom it is addressed; by grieving their minds, if they are pious, and by inducing some, and tempting all, to share in the guilt.

Το

One reason why many persons, otherwise sincerely pious, are often betrayed into the sin of evil-speaking, is, the fair but delusive arguments by which it seems to be supported. Many of these, while they gravely suppose themselves to be expressing their abhorrence of wickedness, are only venting a splenetic and detestable enmity. declare our entire discountenance and abhorrence of vice is unquestionably proper; but this may generally be done without personal allusions; or if individualizing be necessary, we ought, in most cases, to address ourselves in private to the offender himself, in conformity to the direction given by our blessed Lord, Matt. xviii. 15, &c. to which we have already alluded. In this way he will have an opportunity of excul

Now, that the perpetrator of a bad action merits punishment, even more severe than the shame of exposure, is not questioned: the question is, has the person who advances this objection authority to inflict punishment on the delinquent? Human punishments are only legitimate when calculated to benefit either the offender or the public; the former by correction, the latter by warning; and when this object cannot reasonably be contemplated, no man, no number of men, however dignified, are authorized to inflict punishment. Now, no man should dare to "take up a reproach against his neighbour,” without first asking himself the following questions:-Am I certain that by thus doing I shall seriously promote the interests of any one person, and do no injury that shall not be outweighed by the benefit? Is this my single intention? Am I actuated by no vindictive feelings? Have I no pleasure in the mere act of relating evil of another? And, am I determined to dwell no longer on the subject than is necessary?—If these queries can be satisfactorily and conscientiously answered, the action becomes a duty; but if they cannot, he stands charged with a crime, the guilt of which consists partly in the violation of a direct prohibition of scripture, "Speak evil of no man," Titus iii. 3. and partly in the indulgence of malignant feelings, which are completely at variance with that evangelical love which "covereth a multitude of sins."

Those who view evil-speaking in the light of a salutary correction of the delinquent, labour, it is presumed, under a serious mistake. In general, this remedy possesses qualities so deleterious as to render its administration highly unsafe; or, in other words, it is, in most cases, more calculated to injure than to benefit. Most men place a considerable value upon their character and honour; and while they do so, it is highly probable they will endeavour to preserve them. A sense of honour is the most rigid guardian of virtue; but when this is taken away, a breach is made in the moral citadel, which portends its approaching ruin. If a man feel that his character is gone, a mighty stimulus to honourable conduct is lost: that which arises from the hope of retrieving his reputation must be feeble,

With regard to the advantage which others may derive from the exposure of faults, it may be sufficient to observe, that this benefit is uncalled for; the examples of misconduct, and of the ruinous effects of misconduct already made public, are sufficiently numerous for every purpose of

this kind.

But it may be said, "We hate hypocrisy and deception, and think that every person ought to be known to be what he really is." Let us drag this, and all the other allegations that are advanced in favour of evilspeaking, into the light of a general principle; I mean that venerable maxim delivered by our Lord, "Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them." Now, suppose the reader had committed a fault inadvertently, precipitately, or even deliberately; but he now, perhaps, detests the action, and is ashamed of his conduct; I ask how, in such a case, would he wish to be treated by others? surely with lenity and forbearance. But suppose he should be informed that a certain individual of his acquaintance, takes abundance of pains to publish his crime, detailing it, with much apparent glee and self-satisfaction, at every convenient opportunity; would he not feel stung with indignation at this gratuitous defamer, and believe him to be a base unfeeling wretch: but let the reader remember, that if such would be his sentiments concerning an evil-speaker, when his own conduct was in question, to the very same abhorrence and execration is he entitled, should he ever be guilty of this vice.

These remarks have been made solely with reference to the detraction which deals only in true statements; what, then, shall be said of that which deals in statements that are coloured and exaggerated, in uncharitable conjectures, sneering and caricatured insinuations, and lying slanders! WM. ROBINSON.

Rainton, near Thirsk.

CHRISTIANITY UNIVERSALLY BENEFICIAL.

If the gospel could not be proved to be true or authentic, it might be proved to be desirable; because altogether adapted to the condition of man, and manifestly promotive of his highest happiness.— Christianity interdicts all vice, and enjoins all virtue: its grand and professed design is the complete extirpation of moral evil out