ther we do resolve to cleave to him and his ways, in all the acts of holy obedience, even to the end of life-looking to him while we thus resolve, "to work in us both to will and to do of his own good pleasure," and to "keep us by his almighty power through faith unto salvation." If this be the temper and these the exercises of our mindshowever we may mourn our darkness and our difficulties-we have good reason to hope that we are founded on the rock Christ Jesus, and that our hope shall never make us ashamed. But if, on the contrary, we are seeking justification by the deeds of the law, and do not feel most sensibly, that without a vital union with Christ by faith, we must perish: if the Saviour do not constantly appear necessary and sometimes precious to us; if we do not feel our obligations to obey all the laws of God; and yet, after all we have done, that we are emphatically unprofitable servants:-or if we are resting on some supposed spiritual views which we once had, while we do not most earnestly seek new views of Christ and his fulness, nor endeavour to walk as he hath commanded; then truly we have reason to fear that we have "neither part nor lot in this matter." Let all such be exhorted, as they value their eternal peace, to take no peace to themselves, till they obtain it on other grounds than those on which it is now resting. Secondly, Nearly allied to what has just been stated, is the application which should be made of this subject, by awakened and inquiring souls. Let them be most earnestly entreated to take up with nothing as satisfying, short of good evidence that they have been truly brought to rest on the Saviour alone, and are consequently his in the everlasting covenant of his grace. Better to bear the pains of a wounded conscience till they are healed by the blood of Christ, than to have them healed slightly by any other remedy. Cease to seek justification by your own efforts or obedience. Come, at once, to the Fountain which can cleanse you from all your stains. Are you altogether vile-altogether unworthy-altogether helpless? Just such the Redeemer came to save-As such you are invited to go to him for salvation. If you ever attempt to come to him in any other character than this, he will reject you. If, therefore, you feel this to be your character, that sentiment exactly suits your case to the Saviour, and the Saviour to your case. To you he must be precious--Throw yourselves entirely upon him, and he will not reject you. "Ho! every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters; and he that hath no money come ye buy and eat; yea, come buy wine and milk without money and without price. Wherefore do ye spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labour for that which satisfieth not. Hearken diligently unto me, and eat ye that which is good, and let your souls delight itself in fatness. Incline your ear and come unto me; hear and your souls shall live: and I will make an everlasting covenant with you, even the sure mercies of David." Thirdly, The subject which we have been discussing applies itself, in a peculiar manner, to the people of God-urging them to "abide in Christ," and to animate themselves with the sure prospect of the heavenly inheritance. Hear, my brethren, the words of the divine Jesus"Abide in me and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself unless it abide in the vine, no more can ye except ye abide in me. I am the vine ye are the branches; he that abideth in me and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit; for without me ye can do nothing." Truth, blessed Saviour! without thee we can do nothing. Help us, therefore, by thy grace constantly imparted; and then, "through thy strengthening us, we can do all things." Christians, let us never exchange the holy delight which arises from a life of faith on the Son of God, for any of the polluted pleasures of the world. Let us live simply upon him; and under all the trials we may bear for his cause, or meet with in his service, let us solace ourselves with anticipating that heavenly rest, which shall, in a few fleeting days, succeed to all our toils, and which will be the sweeter for every painful sensation we now endure. Finally-The import of this subject, to those who are yet" at ease in Zion," is both awful and alluring. It is awful, as it indicates their danger; it is alluring, as it exhibits, in the most attractive view, the way of escape. Christless sinner! thou art in the midst of a howling wilderness, in which thou wilt certainly perish, if thou dost not flee to the rock of salvation. Thy outward enemies, Satan and the world— and thy inward diseases corruptions and lusts, that produce a mortal fever in the soul; all conspire thy eternal ruin; and they will certainly prevail, unless Christ be thy refuge, Christ thy captain, Christ thy physician, Christ thy sole reliance, Christ the water of life to thy perishing immortal spirit. Behold, then, this hour he offers to be all this to thee. On thy peril, refuse not the offer. By the worth of thy soul, by the value of heavenly rest, by the mercies of God in Christ Jesus, I exhort, charge and entreat thee, hasten to the Saviour-But why do I speak of my entreaties?-Listen to and embrace with unutterable gratitude, the invitations of the whole church, and of the Spirit of grace" For the Spirit and the bride say, come-and let him that heareth say come-and let him that is athirst come-and whosoever will let him take the water of life freely." Amen. From the Evangelical Magazine. THE EYE OF THE LORD. "The eye of JEHOVAH is upon them that fear him."-Ps. xxxiii. 18. Next to the tongue, there is no more powerful or expressive medium of imparting thought and feeling to another, than the human eye: by means of the eye we receive impressions from the numberless objects of vision, as various as our perception of the nature, character, and relations of the objects themselves, and the degree of intelligence, and mental and moral susceptibility of the mind, which is the subject of their operations: and through this medium, the same individual may communicate, by a single glance, the tenderest emotions of sympathy, affection, and pity, and the bitterest feelings of malignant hatred and contempt. Hence, by a beautiful figure, the eye is put as the representative of those thoughts, of which it is universally the instrument. To say that the child is removed from the eye of a parent, is at once understood and felt to be a loss, which can be but feebly and imperfectly recompensed, by attention the most intelligent and conscientious, on the part of any who do not stand in the same endearing relationship, and cannot, therefore, be the subject of the same feelings, or, at any rate, to the same degree. The eye of the stranger cannot glisten with the chastened fondness of a father, nor beam with the yearning tenderness of a mother, nor convey the emotions of a sympathetic delight, which sparkle in the countenance of a faithful friend. In all the walks of life, what so cheering and supporting amid all its toils, what so animating to all its duties, as the mutual glance of tender affection and generous confidence? The peasant, the man of business, the man of letters, leaves his family, after their morning repast, for the duties of the day; but, at that meeting, looks were exchanged, which live and operate in the motives and conduct of the family throughout all its branches. It is not the result of a process of ratiocination of which the mind is conscious, or of a train of reasoning in which the man lays down premises and logically deduces certain conclusions, but it is nevertheless a matter of fact, of which an appeal to our own hearts will convince us. If it be not so, how is it that, if there have been any dereliction of duty, any breach of faith, at the return of that meeting the same glance is the occasion of a feeling of remorse and self-reproach; while, on the other hand, the more retired and unobtrusive duties of the family, the labour of the field, the bustle of the shop and the exchange, and the toil of the closet, find their ample reward, and their most delightful relaxation, in the renewed reciprocation of the most grateful feelings of the heart, not by words, which appear too coarse a vehicle for their communication, but by the delicate, yet powerful emotions, which sparkle from the windows of the soul? The verse above quoted, contains an interesting and delightful fact, which, if realized by every individual, (and it ought to be realized by all who "fear God,") would produce upon their individual moral character, an effect analogous to the one we have attempted to describe"The eye of the LORD is upon them that fear him"-the eye of that God, whose "word is right" and all whose "works are done in truth," who "loveth righteousness and judgment," and whose "goodness filleth all the earth"-beams with that expression of truth and love, which are essential attributes of his nature, upon all those who by their united reverence and confidence, prove their relationship. What a powerful influence must such a realization have, to strengthen and support the mind in the time of trial, either by prosperous or adverse dispensations of Providence, to sustain and animate in the performance of duty, whether of a public or private nature; in the exercise of self-government, in the discipline of a family, the direction of a manufactory, or the management of a state-in the church or in the world! May this fact be more powerfully realized by all those who delight to call upon God as their Father! And, in order to this end, let every member of the spiritual family dwell in thought upon the fact, till he feel his mind kindled, his heart warmed, and his whole moral nature influenced by the sentiment. From the Evangelical Magazine. THE MISSIONARY'S FAREWELL SONG. Farewell to the land of my birth, Σ. Σ. Η. I could sigh, but my heart's not my own; His hand the rude billows will keep, 3 D "I count all things but loss" for his sake, Yes; the negro who weeps on the shore, I'll point to the "Lamb that was slain," Whose hand will unrivet the chain, The glad news to the Indian shore! Miscellaneous. For the Christian Advocate. MEMOIR OF MRS. LUCRETIA YORK. W. E. We are assured that the facts relative to the subject of this memoir were communicated to the writer by her son, the Rev. M. M. York; who was also an eye-witness to the most of them, and the companion of his mother in her sorrows, at an age when he could afford her but little assistance. He has since been called to " rest from his labours, and his works do follow him." The popular gust of the present day, even among religious people, so loudly demands exciting narratives, that its gratification has been attempted by religious novel writing. To this there are certainly many and strong objections. But when we can give to the public narratives of unquestionable facts and occurrences in real life, scarcely less extraordinary than those of fiction and romance, and all going to the promotion of vital piety, we at once consult the public taste, and the best, the eternal interests, of our readers. These considerations have induced us to give place in our pages to the following rather extend ed memoir. Lucretia Miner was born in February, 1734. Her parents, Manasseh and Keziah Miner, at that time resided in Voluntown, Connecticut. In her eighteenth year she was married to Mr. Amos York. The ninth year of their marriage crowned their union with a daughter; and thus far their days had passed in tranquillity. But at this time their eldest daughter, remarkable for her attachment to her school and books, for her lovely person and amiable disposition, was suddenly taken from them by death. We suppose that Mrs. York had, ere this, experienced a change of heart; but her passions were strong, and in this event she manifested a disposition unreconciled to the Divine will. She was thus deprived of those rich consolations which a right view of her heavenly Father's hand in this dispensation might have afforded-she forgot surviving blessings, confining her thoughts and affections to the sleeping dust-magnifying her loss and her own sufferings, beyond measure. Thus, like many others when their idols are taken, she was made to say, "What have I more?" One evening, Mrs. York was sitting, as usual, by her window, where she had often seen her little healthy Ann returning from school, and deeply affected with the idea that she must see her no more; when to her unspeakable joy, the daughter appeared, and admonished her for mourning thus excessively on account of her death! We do not sup. pose that her spirit under some sensible form was really seen. Probably from extreme sorrow Mrs. York had fallen into a slumber, and was thus admonished in a dream. The occurrence, however, had the most salutary effect; she could now pray with resignation, and view her painful loss as the necessary chastening of her heavenly Father. From this hour she mourned no more. Her children were multiplied. Four daughters and a son were added within a few years. The son, a child of many prayers, was named Manasseh Miner. Mr. York being a considerable proprietor in the Susquehannah land purchased of the Indians, moved, in 1773, to Wysox, then in Luzerne county, now in Bradford. The summer following they were called to rejoice and to mourn, in the birth and death of a second son. As they were in affluent circumstances at that time, the family did not experience what many families do in new countries, the want of food and raiment; and far removed from scenes of luxury and extravagance, artificial wants were not created. Hence a greater share of contentment fell to their lot than is usually known in places more refined. But although they now enjoyed much, yet their days of darkness were to be many. A considerable number of the thinly settled inhabitants were what in those days was termed tories, while Mr. York adhered to the opposite, or whig party. The time had come when every one, whether whig or tory, was obliged to take a decided stand, and Mr. York was betrayed into the hands of the savages; and here ended those days of his own and his family's temporal tranquillity. The 12th and 13th of February, 1777, the aged will remember, was marked by a storm, in which the snow fell an unusual depth. On the 14th, Mr. York went to a neighbour's at the distance of two miles, his horse making the only solitary track. Without fear or suspicion, he entered the house of a supposed friend, receiving a more than usual hearty welcome. But it was the malicious welcome of a treacherous enemy, into whose hands, and that of the more merciful savage, he had fallen! Resistance was vain, and escape utterly impracticable; submission was the only alternative. Between forty and fifty Indians had arrived, and there had waited during the storm. Their object was not at this time to kill their enemies, but to plunder and make prisoners. Mr. York was an object of their peculiar hatred; and the Lord delivered him into their hands. Fourteen savages repaired with their captive to his house, for plunder. Their arrival was announced by the son, who saw them ascending an eminence, his father walking, while an Índian was mounted on his horse! Each member of the family ran to the door, rending the air with their agonizing cries, as the Indians' terrifying war-hoop was heard. The sudden change from the height of tranquillity to the present distress was scarcely supportable, yet fearful anticipation painted the scene in yet more dreadful colours. What but a general massacre could they expect, armed as these savages were, with the rifle, tomahawk and scalping knives? headed by a white man, their treacherous neighbour, more refined in wickedness than themselves? But God had otherwise ordained-their cup of sorrow was not yet full; and all the family had not yet learned that the rod was in the hand of the God of Israel, who chasteneth in measure and in mercy. Their terrors were partly allayed when told they were not to die-the father must be a |