sinner's companion. Beware of the fascinating but dangerous tribe of poets, fictionists, story-tellers, and dramatists, whose writings steal away the heart from God, secretly poison the spring of devotion, create false standards of judgment and rob God of his honour. Never let the ignis fatuus of genius beguile you into the swamps and puddles of immorality, much less of infidelity: the heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it? Ten thousand thieves and robbers within are continually purloining God of our best affections; they assume imposing attitudes, array themselves in false attire, speak flattering words, "prophecy smooth things," delude the imagination, and darken the soul. Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation. Always keep a searching experimental book in private reading, to accompany the study and daily reading of the word of God. Beware of trifling and mere gossiping conversation, even with religious friends; the aforenamed thieves and robbers are never more active than under the plausible guise of unprofitable intercourse with those, whom on good grounds we esteem. "The time is short" should be written on every one and every thing we see. Dear Charlotte Buchanan is now gone to the rest that remaineth for the people of God. Do you not now feel, that had you anticipated so speedy a bereavement, many a thought would have been cherished, many a word uttered, many a conversation held, more congenial with the idea of her early flight from time to eternity, from the visible to the invisible world? But you know not who may go next. If, then, where health may still bloom on the cheek, so much consideration is due, how much more so, when sickness and anticipated decay warn us, that those we love, may not long be with us. I deeply feel that our general standard of social and domestic religion is too low. It does not sufficiently partake of the more simple and pure vitality of the poor man's piety. The cottage outstrips the drawing-room, in the genuine characteristics of the gospel efficacy.The religion of the one is more like wine, that of the other wine and water, in various degrees of mixture. There is not only to be found in the religious world, a solid, substantial, consistant, and devoted character, but there is also what may be termed a pretty genteel sort of evangelism, which too well combines with the luxurious ease and partial acquiescence of the world, and the flesh, not to say the Devil also. But such evangelism will not prepare the soul for sickness, death and eternity, or will, at best, leave it a prey to the most fearful doubts, or, still more to be feared, the delusions of false peace. The way that leads to eternal life is much more narrow, than many of our modern professors are aware of; the gate is too straight to allow all their trifling, and self-will, and fastidiousness, and carnal-mindedness to press through it. The gospel is a system of self-denial: its dictates teach us to strip ourselves, that we may clothe others; they leave us hungry, that we may have wherewith to feed others; and sent us bare-footed among the thorns of the world, rather than silver-shod, with mincing steps, to walk at our ease amongst its snares. When our Lord was asked, "Are there few that shall be saved?" he answered neither Yes nor No; but said, " Strive to enter in at the straight gate," and this word " strive," might be translated "agonize." Beware of belonging to that class, which Mrs. H. ingeniously calls "the borderers." Choose whom you will serve, and take care not to prefer Baal. Ask yourself every night, what portion of the past day have I given to God, to Christ, to devotion, to improvement, to benevolent exertion, to effectual growth in grace. Weep for the deficien . cies you therein discover, and pray for pardon and brighter progress. We intend next Thursday to give a little feast to a great company of the poor chidren of Turvey. Dear Willy will not be able this year to explain the Magic Lantern, and talk to them about "Lions and Whittingtons," so we must try to be optical without. H- I will act behind the scenes, but make no speeches. * * * * * * * * I hope to hear a better account of Mrs. W, to whom present my very affectionate regards. From my heart I wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year when it comes. St. James explains "Merry," (James v. 13.) so does our Lord, (Luke xv. 24.) May such merry-makings be ours. Our love to all. Tell Mr. M. to write to Wilberforce. I want correspondents who will do him good, and not trifle. I am to preach two Missionary Sermons at Cambridge on the thirteenth. Farewell, my beloved F, come quickly here, and be assured how truly I am, Your faithful loving_Father, January 6, 1825. it. MY DEAR F * * * "Your communication is just such as I wish you often and again to repeat. Let your heart be confidential, and you will ever find mine responsive to * May no trifles ever wean your affections from the unspeakably important subjects of eternity. Idols are bewitching, dangerous things, and steal away the heart from God. The most lawful things may become idols, by fixing an unlawful degree of affection upon them. One reason of the difficulties with which you meet on the subject of prayer may be, the not sufficiently looking by faith unto Christ. Essential as prayer is, both as a privilege, an evidence, an instrument of good and a source of every blessing; yet it is only the intercessory prayer of Christ, that can render our prayers acceptable and efficacious, and it is only by lively faith in the Great Intercessor, that we can obtain a heart to pray. Thus faith and prayer act in a kind of circle in our minds, and each produces, (experimentally,) and is produced, by the aid of the other. I am glad you like Mr. Bickersteth's little book on prayer,-all his publications are good. There are many books as well as general conversations about religious matters which, after all, do not bring home true religion to the heart. Religious gossiping is a deceitful thing and deceives many. How many professors of religion will utter twenty flippant remarks, pro or con, upon a preacher, where one will lay his remarks to his heart. How many look more to the vessel than the excellency of the treasure contained in it. Some people cannot relish their tea or coffee, unless served in a delicate cup, with a pretty pattern and a gilt edge. Let poor dear Charlotte Buchanan's sudden call from time to eternity, warn us how needful it is to "die daily;" not to trifle with our souls, when eternity may be so near; nor to boast of the morrow, when we know not what a day may bring forth.Willy is anxious for your return, he droops at present, and wishes to have his dearest friends near him. * I rejoice to find your recent meditations have opened to your conscience besetting infirmities. Press forward, my child, let them not gain an ascendancy. Beware of mere sentimentalism, of satire, of fastidiousness towards persons and things. Beware of bigotry and prejudice, of procrastination, of the love of fictions, of dangerous though fascinating poets, &c. * * * * * wish you, my love, to attach yourself to visiting the sick, and conversing usefully with the poor; to the instruction of poor children; to religious correspond ence and conversation, with a few sincere friends; and particularly strive to commence and continue spiritual conversation with our dear Willy. "I lately watched the young moon declining in the western sky--it shone sweetly. Sometimes a cloud shot across the disk-sometimes a floating mist partially obscured it, alternately it was bright again: it sometimes silvered the edge of the very cloud that hid it from sight. At length the lower horn touched the horizon, then the upper horn, and then it wholly disappeared. Venus remained to cheer the gloom. I said to myself, There is the decline of my loved boy, and there is the star of hope.' Your affectionate father, L. RICHMOND." London, June, 1825. DEAR F. AND dear H. "Between the morning and evening services of this day, I have a leisure hour, in which I feel as if I should like to sit down and talk with you two. I miss our early morning exercises much, and this for the present must be the substitute on my part. I have nothing very particular to recount, only that I have been to a few places, where I was last summer with my beloved Wilberforce, and I have indulged the silent tear as I retraced incidents never again to recur. At some places, where my friends remember his visits and conversations, I am asked, 'how he is,' with interest in their manner, and have to tell how he has taken his flight to another and a better world; and it affects me greatly so to do. I know not how it is with me, in regard to that dear boy's loss, but I talk less and think more than ever about him. The fortnight preceding, and the one succeeding his death are indelibly graven on my heart's recollections, and sometimes overpower me in a way |