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promulgation of the Gospel among his own countryinen ; and from the present fluctuations of religious opinions in Arabia; he is sanguine in his hopes of
His first work is entitled, (Neama Besharatin lil Arabi,) "Happy news for Arabia ;” written in the Nabutte, or common dialect of the coun
It containsan eloquent and argumentative elucidation of the futh of the Gospel, with copious authorities admired by the Mahometans themselves, and particularl by the Wahabians. And prefixed to it, is an accout of the conversion of the author, and an appeal to ae members of his well-known family in Arabia, fr the truth of the facts.
The folloing circumstance in the history of Sabat ought not have been omitted. When his family in Arabia ha heard that he had followed the example of Abdalń, and become a Christian, they dispatched his broth to India, (a voyage of two months,) to as
While Sabat was sitting in his house at Visapatem, his brother presented himself in the disgu
of a Faqueer, or beggar, having a dagger conced under his mantle. He rushed on Sabat, and ounded him. But Sabat, seized his arm, and his his brother.
ervants came to his assistance. He then recogni
The assassin would have become tj victim of public justice, but Sabat interceded for
brother, and sent him home in peace, with letters d presents to his mother's house in Arabia.
The conversion of Abdallah and Sabat seems to Aave been as evidently produced by the Spirit of God, as any conversion in the primitive church. Other instances have occurred in Arabia of a similar kind, and
very borders of Palestine itself. These are like the solitary notices which, in other nations, have announced the approach of a general illumination.. John Huss, and Jerome of Prague, were not, perhaps, more talked of in Europe, than Abdallah and Sabat are at this day, in Bucharia and Arabia.
CHARACTER OF A CLERGYMAN.
I was very much pleased, in my last visit to Colonel Caustic's, with the appearance and the deportment of the clergyman of his parish, who was a frequent visitor of my friend, and his sister. The Colonel, after drawing his character in very favourable way, concluded with telling me, that he had seen something of the world, having officiatel
, in the early part of his life, as the chaplain of a roiment. To this circumstance, I confess, I was inclind to impute some of the Colonel's predilection in his avour ; but a little acquaintance with him convinced le, that he had done the good man no more than juste in his eulogium. There was something of a placı dignity in his aspect; of a politeness, not of form, blofsentiment, in his manner; of a mildness, undetsed by flattery, in his conversation equally pleasing ay respectable. He had now no family, as Miss Gustic informed me, having had the misfortune to los wife, and two children many years ago. But hinarishoners are his family, said she. His look inad was parental, with something above the cares, t not the charities of this world ; and over a cast seriousness, and perhaps melancholy, that seemed be reserved for himself, there was an easy cheerful ness, and now and then a gaiety, that spoke to the in nocent pleasures of life, a language of kindness and indulgence.
"'Tis the religion of a gentleman,” said Colonel Caustic.-“ 'Tis the religion of a philosopher,” said I.-"'Tis something more useful than either,” said his sister.
know his labours as I have sometimes occasion to do! The composer of differences, the promoter of peace and of contentment ; the encourager of industry, sobriety, and all the vir tues that make society prosperous and happy. He
quero f death! These are the privileges which I
gives to religion a certain graciousness which allures to its service, yet in his own conduct he takes less in. dulgence than many that preach its terrors. The duties of his function are his pleasures, and his doctrine is, that ever man will experience the same thing, if he bring fis mind fairly to the trial ; that to fill our station wd, is in every station to be happy."
“ The great ad wealthy, I have heard the good man say," contiued the excellent sister of my friend, " to whom refement and fancy open a thousand sources of deliat, do not make the
allowance for the inferio rank of men.
That rank has scarce any exercise f mind or imagination but one, and that one is région ; we are not then to wonder, if it sometimes anders into the gloom of superstition, or the wilds onthusiasm. To keep this principle warm, but pure, teach it as the gospel has taught it, the mother good works, as encouraging, not excusing our
ties, the guide at the same time, and the sweetne
of life ; to dispense this sacred treasure as the bal of distress, the cordial of disease, the con
which I hope I have used for the good of my
they have hitherto shed satisfaction on my peo] lifead I trust will smooth its close !"
Tis the religion of a Christian !” said Miss Citic.
RELIGION AND SUPERSTITION CONTRASTED.
I had lately a very remarkable dream, which made so strong an impression on me, that I remember every word of it ; and if you are not better employed, you may read the relation of it as follows:
I thought I was in the midst of a very entertaining set of company, and extremely delighted in attending to a lively conversation, when on a sudden, I perceived one o. the most shocking figures that imagination can frame, advancing towards me.
She was dressed in black, her skin was contracted into a thousand wrinkles, her eyes deep sunk in her head, and her complexion pale and livid as the countenance of death. Her looks were filled with terror and unrelenting severity, and her hands arned with whips and scorpions. As soon as she came near, with a horrid frown, and a voice that chilled ay very blood, she bade me follow her.
I obeyed, an she led me through rugged paths, beset with briar and thorns, into a deep solitary valley. Wherever sh passed, the fading verdure withered beneath her step; her pestilential breath infected the air with mágnant vapours,obscured the lustre of the sun, and in lved the fair face of heaven in universal gloom. Dismal howlings resounded through the forest; fry every baleful tree, the night raven uttered his dreadft note; and the prospect was filled with desolation al hor
In the midst of this tremendous scene, niexe. crable guide addressed me in the following maer.
Retire with me, O rash, unthinking mortal! m the vain allurements of a deceitful world ; and lon, that pleasure was not designed the portion of huin life. Man 'was born to mourn and to be wretch This is the condition of all below the stars; and wh ever endeavours, to oppose it, acts in contradiction i the will of heaven. Fly then from the fatal enchant ments of youth and social delight, and here consecrate the sclitary hours to lamentation and woe. Misery is the duty of all sublunary beings; and every enjoyment is an offence to the Deity, who is to be worshipped only by the mortification of every sense of pleasure, and the everlasting exercise of sighs and tears."
This melancholy picture of life quite sunk my spirits, and seemed to annihilate every principle of joy
I threw myself beneath a blasted yew, where the winds blew cold and dismal round my head, and dreadful apprehensions chilled my heart. Here I resolved to lie till the hand of death, which I impatiently invoked should put an end to the miseries of a life so dep
rably wretched. In this sad situation I espied upone hand of me a deep muddy ri. ver, whose heav waves rolled on in slow, sullen
Her I determined to plunge ; and was just upon the brk, when I found inyself suddenly drawn back. turned about, and was surprised by the sight of th loveliest object I had ever beheld. The most enging charms of youth and beauty appeared in aller form : effulgent glories sparkled in her eyes, an their awful splendors were softened by the gentlesboks of compassion and peace. At her approach, le frightful spectre, who had before tormented vanished away, and with her all the hor
d caused. The gloomy clouds brightened into ch/ful sunshine, the groves recovered their verdurand the whole region looked gay and blooming ase garden of Eden. I was quite transported at th inexpected change, and reviving pleasure be
gladden my thoughts; when with a look of ingan
sible sweetness, my beauteous deliverer thus exp
Pa her divine instructions. utt
Iy name is RELIGION. I am the offspring of TTH and Love, and the parent of BenEVOLENCE, E, and Joy. That monster, from whose power ave freed
you, is called SUPERSTITION: she is the ild of DISCONTENT, and her followers are FEAR ad Sorrow. Thus, different as we are, she has of. en the insolence to assume my name and character; and seduces unhappy mortals to think us the same, till, she at length drives them to the borders of Des. PAIR, that dreadful abyss into which you were just going to sink.”
“ Look round, and survey the various beauties of the globe, which heaven has destined for the seat of
human race; and consider whether a world thus