Who is there among us, who laboring to promote the welfare of others, either in a wider or a narrower sphere, has not felt encouragement and strengthening comfort, when he found that in his work he was not alone; that others thought it good as well as himself; that he might expect their aid and co-operation in it; and at any rate be free from those chilling obstacles which sometimes sink the energies of the soul, and check those efforts which might otherwise turn to a full account?

Many services in the cause of truth and righteousness depend on the individual laborer almost alone: and there he must learn to go on perseveringly and faithfully, doing his best and resting in no way on human motives, but seeking his encouragements in those views and prospects which christian faith so richly presents; aiming to employ his means of usefulness with discretion as well as earnestness, but not sinking under occasional disappointments of his best efforts, or the occasional perception of error in his previous plans; taking care to correct, to limit, or to extend, as circumstances direct; but always going on, with simple aims and chastened desires; receiving with gratitude every indication of success, but satisfied even when hope is deferred; and trusting the Lord of the harvest, when sometimes it appears that the seeds of truth and love are dying in the earth.

But in a variety of instances, the great purposes of human improvement, both temporal and spiritual, cannot go on without the encouragement and co-operation of others. Every public object must have some individuals who shall make it their peculiar care, and watch over and direct it, and keep up its usefulness, and see to its interests; but even this, though essential, is not enough; there must be

aid (pecuniary or otherwise as the case requires) from others who, perhaps, may not take the same degree of interest in it, or see its importance in the same strong light, or (if they did) have other objects more peculiarly claiming their attention and exertion. Human life is short, and the human mind is limited. It is necessary that we should act with others, in order to enable them to do that which, even if it could be accomplished by the labors of an individual during a long life, can be better done at once by joint exertion. In order to do with our might that which our hand findeth to do, before the night of death closes our service—and to enable others to do the same-there must often be mutual acquiescence in the convictions of those who have entered into the subject, and perceive the whole bearings of it, and are prepared to give their efforts to carry the purposes of benevolence into execution. And then, by the arms of others, we may reach to do good where our own cannot. Through them, our little pecuniary sacrifices will tell to the best account; with their activity and intelligence, we may surmount obstacles which have baffled us; and we may possess and may communicate the consolation, (when it seems to the wearied head or the depressed heart as though we could do nothing,) that the work will go on, however humble and limited our own share in it, so as to promote its great purposes. And, in like manner, where our co-operation is cheerfully given to others, we may expect, or if we do not expect, we shall find co-operation from others. In this present state of existence, there is vastly more of retribution than can be discerned by the inexperienced.

In order to do as much good as we can, we must place

confidence in others; and, where their motives are obviously right, and their judgment on the whole has proved to be sound, when they have plans of usefulness which, if successful, must be beneficial, and which cannot be successful without aid from others, we should not be too nice in scanning all the difficulties, presenting all the obstacles, and reckoning up all the failures; but venture a little. Our means are limited, and our ventures, therefore, should be well directed; but if we are too fastidious, or too fearful of success, we shall create difficulties and prevent it.

(To be continued.)

ANECDOTE.

[From the Monthly Repository.]

SOME half a dozen years since, a gentleman, not very distantly related to the writer of this article, being then a student for the ministry, was on a visit in Devonshire to an uncle. At the request of his relative, who was a liberal Calvinist, he agreed to preach in a village near the town where his uncle resided. The use of the pulpit was readily granted to the nephew of Mr A., and the day being arrived, the young minister proceeded to fulfil the wishes of his relative. He left early in the day, and his uncle was to meet him at the chapel. Arrived at the village, he was treated with the greatest kindness and hospitality. At last, seated at the tea-table, his host, a respectable farmer, with somewhat of the Puritan in his appearance and manner, thus addressed him, of a sudden 3

VOL. IV.NO. I.

interrupting the conversation that was going on: Well, preaching time is near; but you have not told us what you are; but suppose it is all right, as your uncle sent you. Are ye of the church? Minister. No. Host. All the better; then ye're a Dissenter? M. Yes. H. Well; are ye a dipper? M. No. H. Are ye a freewiller? M. No. H. Are ye a Calvin? M. No. H. Well, what then? Why," suddenly bethinking himself, "ye ar'n't a Socinian, are ye?" M. "I am a Unitarian." "A Socinian!" exclaimed his daughter, a fine stout country girl that sat in a distant part of the room, listening to the dialogue with deep attention-" A Socinian! How can ye preach, then, and ye deny Christ? O I'll go and tell them there'll be no preaching to night." And away went the alarmist to frighten the poor villagers with the idea of this Socinian preacher. Such a thing had never been seen in the village before. In a quarter of an hour all was in a bustle. The host had enough to do to keep people out of the house. At length the minister of the chapel arrived. When he saw him, the young minister felt his spirits rise, for his appearance of body and countenance indicated that no superabundance of sectarianism disturbed the easy tenor of his days. was glad to see his young friend; he had no doubt his young friend could preach without giving offence. He had a great respect for his uncle; his orthodoxy was unquestionable, and he would not have requested the use of the pulpit except he had known that all would be right." While the minister thus spoke, in came the daughter. "He cannot preach, he's a Socinian. He cannot preach, every body says so," she exclaimed. The minister retired with mine host into a private room. Meanwhile,

"He

the milk of human kindness which had an hour before abounded in all hearts, was curdled and soured. When the minister and his friend returned, they said, "It was a pity the people had been alarmed, but as it was so, it would be better to have a prayer-meeting. In that the young gentleman could join or not as he chose." This was determined on; though the daughter intimated by her looks that she doubted if a Socinian could pray, as she knew he could not preach.

As they went to the meeting-house, crowds came to gaze, looking with curiosity what this Socinian could be like; but few were present at the service, fearing, perhaps, too near an approach to so frightful a heretic. Of all persons interested, the uncle was most disappointed, who had meant to give these ignorant rustics a practical lesson on the virtue of charity, intending to inform them after the sermon, which he had reason to believe would be such as they would approve, that the preacher was a Unitarian. This narrative relates facts which might be enacted in hundreds of villages in this kingdom. The public mind is poisoned; and the uninformed look upon Socinians and Catholics as two species of monsters. Why or wherefore they are bad, is not well known. The dislike of them is a matter of feeling rather than of judgment. Two things, it is true, they do iterate; the one "denies Christ," the other would "burn you;" or, to use the words of a Cheshire Squire, recently used at a county meeting, "would make beef-steaks of you." But besides these facts, their feelings are those of indistinct and undefinable aversion, much like the raw-head and bloody-bone sort of feeling with which we remember, in our youth, to have thought of ghosts and of a churchyard. And now