And Christian Mepostitory,

8
aid en 1a es ter in bts iu vl? nt? Ise eat vill the his rho ris- Out id- in- in- vls eir on he ‘he Ni- pur ew iC® oF yw, ho ey Pr- e’. ird dal UNIVERSALIST WATCHMAN —. And Christian Mepostitory, **y HAVE SET WATCHMEN ON THY WALLS, 0 JERUSALEM! WHO SHALL NEVER HOLD THEIR PEACE DAY NOR NIGHT.”’ VOL. 16. MONTPELIER, VT., MARCH 29, 1845. ‘NO. 37. (Original.} ambition orinterest. The Jews indeed were fa-|be justified, in ‘attempting o illustrate and en- The Unity ofMan. jvored with some glimmerings of the true light.|force its truth and reality. We will commence a an ‘They were taught in a higher” sense than any| with a view of our temporal relations, and endea- “And whether one member suffer, all the ssnmsberelnone beovly, the iy ge Heneyes and/|vor to see if it is not true, that we all enjoy or suffer with it, er one member be honored, all the mem- Fag yon rg ase Pn pao yee co gat together. joi it.)?— ii. 26. | een| , ; ° wagnerrr eeen a... led, for all revelation oon of bins be gradu-| Thefirsgrelation of man is, that which he sue- _ The first lesson taught in the school of Christ,| 4) The full blaze of its light would have blind-|2i8s to his family. Parents and children, hus- is the brotherhood ef man. Before his day man) 44 their eyes; indeed they could not look u n| Oands and wives, brothers and sisters, make up had supposed, that he lived for himself alone,| 9+ they ad elton a aeitem PO? the family and dwell together. There are few and that he had little or no interest in common | - ; that would deny that here their interests are one, with his fellow man. This error manifested it-| However this may be, it is certain, their views|and that they must suffer or rejoice together. Is self in the very infancy of our race. Cain and of the brotherhood of man were limited and nar-jone, even the least of that circle, sick or in dis- Abel were brothers, by the nearest ties of con-/"ow. That God regarded the Jews with favor, tress, how deeply do all sympathise with his suf- sanguinity; and yet, they seem not to have un- that they were, in a sense, brothers of one andjferings? Is one weighed down with sorrow? a derstood, that there was any common tie that the same family, having some interests in com-| gloom spreads over all the household, ard they united their interests and rendered their prosperi- "on, were matters that they could compre- partake with his woe. Does one depart from the ty and happiness indissoluble. Accordingly we hend and practice insome slight degree. But that|path of virtue? the fall pains other hearts beside find, that when Abel was more blessed than his|God was also the Father and friend of the Gen- his own, and all suffer on hisaccount. So if one brother, that brother was moved with indignation tile nations, that one blood ran in all their veins,|is happy or prosperous, the fireside becomes and rose up and slew him. This, however, was|oNe strong and indissoluble tie united all their|cheerful, and all partake of his joys. Thus far, a state of things which, from its very nature|!Mterests, were matters, that they had not learned.|then, few will doubt that the principle of the text could not endure for any considerable length of|And hence, they had no fellowship or communion|is most strictly true. But we extend the circle, time. The tie that bound man to his brother) with others. They regarded not their rights, but}and view man as he stands relative to society at could rot thus be disregarded with safety. Men Plundered them at every turn, and caused their|large. There are a number of families in one began to multiply apon the earth. Common bloodto flow wherever they could open avein. Thusjtown or city, and here our ideas of unity of inte- wants, and dangers, and weaknesses, taught them|it was to thedays of the Saviour, and politically|rest begin to relax. Each family looks at its the imperious necessity of uniting their energies andreligiously, mam was every where, the ene-|own interests and forgets that these are identified for safety, defence or gain. Thus the clan,/™y of man. ButJesus taught a fardifferent doc-|with others, If others prosper as individuals, horde or tribe was formed, acknowledging of ne- 'rne. In his Gospel the middle wall of partition| well; if not, itisthought to be about as well. A cessity a common head and recognizing to a cer-|that had so long been reared full and impassable| smallinterest may be felt in the pygsperityi@f the » tain extent, a common interest. The circle thus|etween the Jews and Gentiles was broken down, |town, village, or city; as sueh, bee beyond this formed, like waves upon the surface of the water, and they were all one. In him there was neither little or no interest is manifested in common with naturally widened and extended, until tribe uni-|Jew nor Greek, bond nor free, for God had madejothers. But is it indeed true, that we are deeply ted with tribe, clan with clan, recognizing a com-\of one blood all nations, te dwell on the face of/and intimately concerned in the welfare of all mon interest in a still more littited degree; and|the earth, He regards thamall as the cebeninound us? Is it nought to us as individuals, thus kingdoms, nations and empires were founded ofhisgreat family; instructs them all, to call prs jroo poverty pines in want or begs from door to and sustained. But in all these instances, the cir-|their father, thus recognizing the truth of their/door? Isit nought to us that oppression grinds cle of brotherhood was comparatively narrow. |brotherhood ; for if God be our father, then are/its victims in the very dust, or dishonest avarice The individual, acknowledged acommon interest, “®brethren, whose interests, duty, happiness and cheats the very eyes from our fellow citizens? to a certain extent with all the individuals of his|destiny are inseparably and forever one, and nojIs itnought to us that vice swaggers inguilty riot, tribe; the tribe in a still less degree with the; member of this family can suffer, without involv-|and midnight orgies go out from dens of ‘vice, tribes composing the nation or kingdom; and|'ng thewhole. Nay,there is even a closer and/and hills of depravity, where debased and crush- these again ina still more limited degree, with| More intimate union and affinity than this. Christ}ed humanity, shames the very beasts in its bru- the kingdum composing the empire. But beyond |'s presented asthe head ofevery man, and all are | tality? Yea, brethren, by these, the very air this the circle of brotherhood did not extend. |S members of the same body. This isthe view of that we breathe becomes tainted, and to its bale- Nor thus far did they imagine for a moment that|the matter that the Apostle takes up and unfolds at| ful influences both ourselves and children are there was any natural or universal law, which|!ength in the chapter from which we have select-|exposed and sooner or later we shall feel this rendered their interests one and indissoluble. Onjed the text. He shows as here, that as man’s|curse in our own persons. These are great sores the contrary, their combinations were formed for|body hasits various members, and all have their/upon the living organism of which we form a defence, or from the promptings of avarice, that! @ppropriate functions, suchas the hands, the eyes,|part—ulcers they are, upon the great body of they might plunder their fellow men; or else|the head and the feet, and all are useful, so in the; which we are members, and bya thousand nerves forced upon the multitude byan iron arm that) Seat body of humanity, there are, and must be'that we cannot see, the pains, and at last the fa- they could not resist. ‘But whatever might have|many members, all having their appropriate offi-'tal throes and convulsions will reach us, and we been the cohesive power that bound together the|es, and fulfilling the functions assigned them, so shall suffer on this account. But towns and cit- tribes, kingdoms and empires of antiquity, one that no one can say he has no need of the other,|ies, form in our country, states, and these again thing is certain, the chain that bound them was/|for they all go to make up the body, animated by form a nation; and for this nation, some interest limited in extent. The Jew, had no idea, that he|one life and actuated byone impulse. And as in must be felt. But beyond this we scarce recog- had any interest in common with the Gentiles, thenatural body, all the members are united, and nise a tie that binds us to kindred humanity. All and hence he thought that he served both God|&9joy orsuffer together; qinthe great body of beyond this must be revengetful, vindictive, war- and man, when the bow-string twanged for life, humanity a nerve of thesame life runs through like and selfish. The isolated individual wrapped and the javelin sped to the heart of his foe. The|¢very member, and quivers through the whole|up in his narrow cloak, or the narrow minded Greek and the German supposed that they wereframe, though smitten inthe remotest part; so/politician, who sees not an inch beyond the creed natural born enemies, that their interests clashed |thatthe sufferings and joys of our fellows be- of his own party, isever ready to ask, What is it by a natural and eternal law, and hence, from/Come in a measure our own. An invisible tie, aito me or my country, that England suffers in age to age, their mail clad hosts went forth to\common life, animates thewhole; our neighbors|poverty and want? What is it tous that her war, and the sword and the scimetar were red|misfortunes are our misfortunes, his crimes are/sons and daughters toil in pent up factories, or in with the blood of victims slain in the deadly con-|°Ur diseases, his virtues or health, and all his the mines and bowels of her earth, shut out from flict. So it was with all other tribes and nations, |S"fferings and sorrows are the aches and pains the light of day and the pleasant places of man? war was the all-engrossing subject of human ac-|that shoot through the system, and make life so| What 1s it to us that paupers swarm her cities tion, and exploits inthe tented field were the pass-|feverish and fitful. So also his happiness, and all and villages, and an hundred thousand thieves port to glory and renown. Thus it was, in the his joys are the pleasures that thrill through our and pickpockets swarm her very capital? Are political world, and in the domain of religion, the|Systems, the healthful glow that lights up our not we a great and happy people? And what ‘ease was much the same. Each religious teach-|Countenances, and makes life cheerful and happy; have we to care for the sufferings of England, or er had hisGod, and his mode and form ofwor-|for says our text, ‘“‘ whether one member suffer, France, or Spain, or Russia, or of the whole to- ship. He founded his sect to.that he swore feal-|4!! the members with it,or one member be hon-|gether? I answer simply this. They are ‘* bone ty, and with its members, in a degree he ac- ored, all the members rejoice with it.” of our bone and flesh of our flesh,” living links knowledged a common interest. But all beyond) I have said that this is the first lesson taught in|in the great chain of humanity, members they were enemies, whom itwas lawful to sacrifice to\the school of Christ. But it is the last, men are ate of the same body, whose bloodflows from the his gods, or immolate upon the altar of his own' willing to leara and practice. I shall therefore'same heart, and whether we know it or not, the’

Transcript of And Christian Mepostitory,

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UNIVERSALIST WATCHMAN —. And Christian Mepostitory,

**y HAVE SET WATCHMEN ON THY WALLS, 0 JERUSALEM! WHO SHALL NEVER HOLD THEIR PEACE DAY NOR NIGHT.”’

VOL. 16. MONTPELIER, VT., MARCH 29, 1845. ‘NO. 37.

(Original.} ambition or interest. The Jews indeed were fa-|be justified, in ‘attempting o illustrate and en- The Unity of Man. jvored with some glimmerings of the true light. |force its truth and reality. We will commence

a an ‘They were taught in a higher” sense than any| with a view of our temporal relations, and endea-

“And whether one member suffer, all the ssnmsberel none beovly, the iy ge Hen eyes and/|vor to see if it is not true, that we all enjoy or

suffer with it, er one member be honored, all the mem- Fag yon rg ase Pn pao yee co gat together. joi it.)?— ii. 26. | een| , ; °

wagner rr ee en a... led, for all revelation oon of bins be gradu-| The firsg relation of man is, that which he sue- _ The first lesson taught in the school of Christ,| 4) The full blaze of its light would have blind-|2i8s to his family. Parents and children, hus- is the brotherhood ef man. Before his day man) 44 their eyes; indeed they could not look u n| Oands and wives, brothers and sisters, make up had supposed, that he lived for himself alone,| 9+ they ad elton a ae item PO? the family and dwell together. There are few and that he had little or no interest in common | - ; that would deny that here their interests are one, with his fellow man. This error manifested it-| However this may be, it is certain, their views|and that they must suffer or rejoice together. Is self in the very infancy of our race. Cain and of the brotherhood of man were limited and nar-jone, even the least of that circle, sick or in dis- Abel were brothers, by the nearest ties of con-/"ow. That God regarded the Jews with favor, tress, how deeply do all sympathise with his suf- sanguinity; and yet, they seem not to have un- that they were, in a sense, brothers of one andjferings? Is one weighed down with sorrow? a derstood, that there was any common tie that the same family, having some interests in com-| gloom spreads over all the household, ard they united their interests and rendered their prosperi- "on, were matters that they could compre- partake with his woe. Does one depart from the ty and happiness indissoluble. Accordingly we hend and practice in some slight degree. But that|path of virtue? the fall pains other hearts beside find, that when Abel was more blessed than his|God was also the Father and friend of the Gen- his own, and all suffer on hisaccount. So if one brother, that brother was moved with indignation tile nations, that one blood ran in all their veins,|is happy or prosperous, the fireside becomes and rose up and slew him. This, however, was|oNe strong and indissoluble tie united all their|cheerful, and all partake of his joys. Thus far,

a state of things which, from its very nature|!Mterests, were matters, that they had not learned.|then, few will doubt that the principle of the text could not endure for any considerable length of|And hence, they had no fellowship or communion|is most strictly true. But we extend the circle, time. The tie that bound man to his brother) with others. They regarded not their rights, but}and view man as he stands relative to society at could rot thus be disregarded with safety. Men Plundered them at every turn, and caused their|large. There are a number of families in one began to multiply apon the earth. Common blood to flow wherever they could open avein. Thusjtown or city, and here our ideas of unity of inte- wants, and dangers, and weaknesses, taught them|it was to the days of the Saviour, and politically|rest begin to relax. Each family looks at its

the imperious necessity of uniting their energies and religiously, mam was every where, the ene-|own interests and forgets that these are identified for safety, defence or gain. Thus the clan,/™y of man. But Jesus taught a far different doc-|with others, If others prosper as individuals, horde or tribe was formed, acknowledging of ne- 'rne. In his Gospel the middle wall of partition| well; if not, it is thought to be about as well. A cessity a common head and recognizing to a cer-|that had so long been reared full and impassable| small interest may be felt in the pygsperityi@f the » tain extent, a common interest. The circle thus|etween the Jews and Gentiles was broken down, |town, village, or city; as sueh, bee beyond this formed, like waves upon the surface of the water, and they were all one. In him there was neither little or no interest is manifested in common with naturally widened and extended, until tribe uni-|Jew nor Greek, bond nor free, for God had madejothers. But is it indeed true, that we are deeply ted with tribe, clan with clan, recognizing a com-\of one blood all nations, te dwell on the face of/and intimately concerned in the welfare of all mon interest in a still more littited degree; and|the earth, He regards thamall as the cebeninound us? Is it nought to us as individuals, thus kingdoms, nations and empires were founded of his great family; instructs them all, to call prs jroo poverty pines in want or begs from door to and sustained. But in all these instances, the cir-|their father, thus recognizing the truth of their/door? Is it nought to us that oppression grinds

cle of brotherhood was comparatively narrow. |brotherhood ; for if God be our father, then are/its victims in the very dust, or dishonest avarice The individual, acknowledged a common interest, “® brethren, whose interests, duty, happiness and cheats the very eyes from our fellow citizens? to a certain extent with all the individuals of his|destiny are inseparably and forever one, and nojIs it nought to us that vice swaggers in guilty riot,

tribe; the tribe in a still less degree with the; member of this family can suffer, without involv-|and midnight orgies go out from dens of ‘vice, tribes composing the nation or kingdom; and|'ng the whole. Nay, there is even a closer and/and hills of depravity, where debased and crush- these again ina still more limited degree, with| More intimate union and affinity than this. Christ}ed humanity, shames the very beasts in its bru- the kingdum composing the empire. But beyond |'s presented as the head of every man, and all are | tality? Yea, brethren, by these, the very air this the circle of brotherhood did not extend. |S members of the same body. This is the view of that we breathe becomes tainted, and to its bale- Nor thus far did they imagine for a moment that|the matter that the Apostle takes up and unfolds at| ful influences both ourselves and children are there was any natural or universal law, which|!ength in the chapter from which we have select-|exposed and sooner or later we shall feel this

rendered their interests one and indissoluble. Onjed the text. He shows as here, that as man’s|curse in our own persons. These are great sores the contrary, their combinations were formed for|body has its various members, and all have their/upon the living organism of which we form a defence, or from the promptings of avarice, that! @ppropriate functions, suchas the hands, the eyes,|part—ulcers they are, upon the great body of

they might plunder their fellow men; or else|the head and the feet, and all are useful, so in the; which we are members, and by a thousand nerves

forced upon the multitude by an iron arm that) Seat body of humanity, there are, and must be'that we cannot see, the pains, and at last the fa-

they could not resist. ‘But whatever might have|many members, all having their appropriate offi-'tal throes and convulsions will reach us, and we been the cohesive power that bound together the|es, and fulfilling the functions assigned them, so shall suffer on this account. But towns and cit-

tribes, kingdoms and empires of antiquity, one that no one can say he has no need of the other,|ies, form in our country, states, and these again thing is certain, the chain that bound them was/|for they all go to make up the body, animated by form a nation; and for this nation, some interest limited in extent. The Jew, had no idea, that he|one life and actuated by one impulse. And as in must be felt. But beyond this we scarce recog-

had any interest in common with the Gentiles, the natural body, all the members are united, and nise a tie that binds us to kindred humanity. All and hence he thought that he served both God|&9joy or suffer together; qin the great body of beyond this must be revengetful, vindictive, war- and man, when the bow-string twanged for life, humanity a nerve of the same life runs through like and selfish. The isolated individual wrapped

and the javelin sped to the heart of his foe. The|¢very member, and quivers through the whole|up in his narrow cloak, or the narrow minded Greek and the German supposed that they were frame, though smitten inthe remotest part; so/politician, who sees not an inch beyond the creed natural born enemies, that their interests clashed |that the sufferings and joys of our fellows be- of his own party, is ever ready to ask, What is it by a natural and eternal law, and hence, from/Come in a measure our own. An invisible tie, aito me or my country, that England suffers in

age to age, their mail clad hosts went forth to\common life, animates the whole; our neighbors|poverty and want? What is it tous that her war, and the sword and the scimetar were red|misfortunes are our misfortunes, his crimes are/sons and daughters toil in pent up factories, or in with the blood of victims slain in the deadly con-|°Ur diseases, his virtues or health, and all his the mines and bowels of her earth, shut out from flict. So it was with all other tribes and nations, |S"fferings and sorrows are the aches and pains the light of day and the pleasant places of man? war was the all-engrossing subject of human ac-|that shoot through the system, and make life so| What 1s it to us that paupers swarm her cities tion, and exploits in the tented field were the pass-|feverish and fitful. So also his happiness, and all and villages, and an hundred thousand thieves port to glory and renown. Thus it was, in the his joys are the pleasures that thrill through our and pickpockets swarm her very capital? Are

political world, and in the domain of religion, the|Systems, the healthful glow that lights up our not we a great and happy people? And what ‘ease was much the same. Each religious teach-|Countenances, and makes life cheerful and happy; have we to care for the sufferings of England, or er had his God, and his mode and form of wor-|for says our text, ‘“‘ whether one member suffer, France, or Spain, or Russia, or of the whole to- ship. He founded his sect to. that he swore feal-|4!! the members with it, or one member be hon-|gether? I answer simply this. They are ‘* bone ty, and with its members, in a degree he ac- ored, all the members rejoice with it.” of our bone and flesh of our flesh,” living links

knowledged a common interest. But all beyond) I have said that this is the first lesson taught in|in the great chain of humanity, members they were enemies, whom it was lawful to sacrifice to\the school of Christ. But it is the last, men are ate of the same body, whose blood flows from the his gods, or immolate upon the altar of his own' willing to leara and practice. I shall therefore'same heart, and whether we know it or not, the’

pulee will beat fitfully, and feverishly through the whole if obstructed in the remotest limb. We ‘have this much to do with it, that poverty and ‘crime already rife at home are rolling a most tre- meéndous flood across the waters, and settling on ‘our shores. Nay more, have we to do with the ‘mations of the earth. What mean our armaments and our navies, floating upon every sea? What ‘mean our frowning fortifications and all the para- phernalia of war that we support in time of peace? Are they ought but atax levied upon us by the ‘turbulent and headlong passions of men? ‘Know we not that these cost us every year enough of ‘toil and treasure, to render a state fertile as Eden, and in ten years, enough to support every pauper ‘and establish a schoo! to educate every child from one end of the land tothe other? And is it not ‘true that our interests are effected by the happi- ness or misery,the virtue or vice of those who ‘live on the other side of the globe? Well then, ‘and truly did the Apostle say, ‘if one member ‘suffer, all the members suffer with iit.”

But we turn te matters of religion. Here also, ‘and amongst the professed disciples of Christ, ‘the chain of brotherhood is felt or acknowledged an but a small and narrow circle. The sectarian has a few with kindred sentiments with his own, sand these he calls his brethren. With them he eels a common interest in some degree; but all ‘others are publieans and heathen. To build up this sect or party, he will willingly sacrifice the iglerests or happiness of all that do not bow at its altar. Some may extend their tiews of brother- hoed a little farther and embrace in their circle of sympathetic interest, some three or four, or perhaps, haif a dozen septs, and feel some little | interest in the welfare of so many. And there are some even, who allow a sort of brotherhood among all that acknowledge the truth of Christi-

can be joy complete in heaven itséif, while mil- lions shall be wailing in the agonies of a dread- ful and endless hell. Nay, brethren, if but one soul, were to suffer in the flames of perdition, yet that one would be a member of the same body as ourselves, and every pain that rent that soul would send a quivering pang from the depths of the pit, to vibrate upon every nerve that runs through all the inhabitants of heaven. To talk of the happiness of the body, when the remotes! limb is seething ‘in fire, ‘is to vidlate all the teach- ings of experience, and run counter to all that we know. So to'talk of a heaven of joy, for the body of humanity, when its members are tortured with keenest anguish without ‘hope of mitigation or end, is absolutely out of ‘the question, tor it was and %s and ever will be true, that when one even of the least of the members suffer, ‘* all the members suffer with it.” We need then a theol-

dark and selfish superstition, bring us out from the narrow inclosures of sectarian selfishness, and allow our hopes at deast to rest in the prospect of a whole body, redeemed, purified and saved.

the future is to confine and cramp man’s benevo- leace for the present, and thus to remove far away the time, when man shall feel his real and close affinity to his fellow man. They encourage

that strict unity of interest that pervades the whole of the human race, and binds them toge- ther for weal or for woe, for time and for eternity ; for so they are bound whether we know it or not. Thank heaven, there is another side to this pic- jture. We are one and indissoluble, not alone in | our suffering, but also in our blessedness and our joys. ‘‘If one member be honored, ail the mem- bers rejoice with it.” To what envyings, and bick- erings, and jealousies, and strife, are we led by our

ogy that shall tift us above the murky clouds of a)

WATCHMAN AND REPOSITORY, the body suffera when the limbs are crushed, God has made us so, that our joys are one: we partake of the joys of our fellows, and the good they have, comes to us, by virtue of ovr eonner- ion with this body, and shall we murmur because we feel their sufferings also by virtue of that same union? [tis but the operetion of that law by which ‘if one member suffer, all the members suffer with it,”’ and which has ite blessed counter- part in the fact that ‘‘if one member be honored all the members rejoice with #.” Let me hope that the great moral lesson of oar subject will not be lost upon our hearts and lives. Let us get out from these narrow bands that wind us round, like the folds that encase the muinmy, and render us as dead and inactive as the ghastly skeleton that has slept its thousand years in the dark tombs of the east. Ob! Jet as throw off these swaddling bands of death, and begin to breathe God's air, and live the bife of humanity, knowimg that we

| are interested in the weal or woe of al} around us, | and cannot give even a cup of cold water to a famishing brother, without reaping the reward iv our own gouls, At the same time we cannot in-

The influence of all narrow and partial views of jure a hair of the head, of the least of all God’s | vast family, without ourselves feeling the pang- Our labors and the labors of the world, at pres- ent, are too sectional and partial. We toil for a sect or party. We form our creed and ovr code

selfishness, foster spiritual pride, and tend to per-| of laws, with all their pains and penalties. We petuate all the ills which flow from ignorance of erect our prisons, penitentiaries, and houses of

correction; or we aim our efforte at some mon- ster vice, in some of its shapes and forms, and ‘what do we accomplish. Why we jnst probe 'some ulcer on the body, and leave it there to | fester, and break out anew, or appear in some lother form. We galvanize some limb of a dead |carcase, and leave it there dead as it was be'ore. | Whereas we should go up to the fountain, and re-

| plenish that moral life that runs through alf the race; by teaching man, that he is no isolated

as for all the world besides, they are und hens, and Christians have no in- ;

4 n com with them. And this is the ex-| ignorance of this great truth. One individual is} fragment, cut off from the body to which he be- tent of their liberality! higher and holier lessons than this.

s° er, and bide us feel that we nallthat live. Not alone the

Universstist, nor yet the Calvinist or Methodist or ‘Catholic, nor yet all that bear the Christiaa mame, but man, man, MAN, is thy brother. He is a part of thyself. Degraded, wandering and ‘ignorant he may be, marred aad scarred, smeared with filth, distorted in feature, mained and crippled in limb, he may be, but he is never- theless a member of that great body, of which

‘thou art a part, and it may be a more honored :ypart. Thy blood flows in his veins, thy very life ‘throbs in his heart. If thou smite him, thou :@mitest thyself. If he suffer, thou must and:shall - suffer with him. Do you ask how you suffer? I » answer in ten thousand ways that you kaow not of. In the disordered state of the body of which . you.are a part.

* tnsiitulions, in the rapid and fluctuating «all forms of life, in eternal strife and cut-throat competitions, and rivalries, which make man’s

life a feverish dream, instead of a calm and pla- Sid reality: and more then all, in the distorted, chalfformed, half-grown, one sided developement -of-eur owa SOULS, in all that is good and great. “These are but a few of the fearful catalouge of ills, that.flew from adisregard of the great prin- ciple {aid dewn in ovr text. As well may the body expect health when the hands smite the feet, wand the teeth gnash the fingers, as to be happy when thus making war upon himself. The thing is impossible, because the fiat of the Eternal has gone ferth, saying, if one member suffer, all the members suffer with it.

I would not, if I could, give a sectarian turn to a subject se broad in the benevolence it incul- cates; but the interests of vast multitudes’ com-

pel me to contemplate'the prevailing dogma of endless and unmitigated woe, for, a part of the human race, in the fight of this subject, If it be true that when one member suffers, all the mem-

we are benefitted by aff his successes, and that ‘his blessings act with a kindly influence upon |ourselves. So of sects and parties, communities and nations. If one outstrips us, we murmur, and throw all the obstacles in our power in his way. But Christianity teaches us better things. It tells us to remember that our neighbor is our other self, all his real successes are our blessings, and that his joys minister to eur own. Hence, we should know, what it would seem, every mind ought to know, that the more happy beings there are around us, the better itis for us. How in- stinctively do we seek the society of those that are happy, that we may share their joys. See we not here an indication of the truth of the great principle of the text? And may we not hence infer what it plainly asserts, that we have a living

In divided and distracted inte-' » rests, in endless strife and contention, in feverish | @uxieties and uncertainties, in the known and ac-|Their joys are our joys, their triumphs are ours, ‘Ienowledged insecurity of all governments and social|and every victory of good over evil, of happiness

changes of over misery, is of so much for God and humani-

idopa suffer with éf,.itis difficult to see, how there

interest in the joys, as well as the sufferings of our fellows. The truth is they are one with us.

ty, so much for the real good of that organism of which we are living members, and with whose members our own is tagjeparably identified. Whe- ther that trinmph be if our own persons, in that of our own friends, or among those that we call our enemies, we are the gainers, and ours is a full share of the benefit, by virtue of that tie that brings us in one body. See you not brethren, in this view of the text an explanation of something in the divine economy, that otherwise would ap- pear dark and mysterious. The selfish man won- ders why he must suffer on account of the follies and vices of others. He sees, as he says, the inno- cent suffer with the guilty. Pestilence bred ‘in dens of vice, visits the abodes of the virtuous. War, originating in the pride and ambition of men on the other side of the globe, comes with all its desolations and the innocent and the hum- ble are involved 4n its ruin. And he wonders that it-dhould. be so. ‘Simply

because we are dil members one of another, and

being ‘of‘the same body must suffer together.

But Christianity has prosperous and happy, and we envy his condition | longs, with all his interests centering in his owe It points to| and murmur at our own lot, little dreaming that | person or sect. ut he is aman, a member of

the great body of humanity—that a nerve of his own life quivers in every anguished heart that lives and suffers, and that the inleresls of himsel/ and all his fellow ereatures, their sorrows and their joys, their happiness and their misery, are now and forever one and inseparable.

Farewell, We remember ance to have stood un the deck

of a vessel, to bid farewell to one who was to trav- el many and many a mile distant. The last word that was spoken, was ‘‘farewell,”” tremuously, as if the heart was too full, and choked the utter- ance, What a world of meaning there is in that word! The mother breathes it, as the spirit of the first-born departs, and she hears the cherubs whisper, as they bear its young soul away, ‘‘ We have no business here.” It is the child’s word to the mother, whose arms have so often supported his tender form, whose eyes have so often beamed forth kindness, whose lips have never been un- loosed but to utter the melody of affection, as he beholds her now, a stark and stiffened eorpse, the spirit far away from its tenement, wanderiag amid the blissful homes, where love keeps its uadispu- ted throne.

It is the language of the wife to the dying hus- band, when years ef comfort and solace are at length to close, and the light of tife to be forever quenched. It is the mariner’s last word as he bounds upon the gallant bark and spreads its can- vass to the breeze. Itis the word of ambition as it looks back on the desolate towers which his fancy had built in fairy spiendor. It is the lan- guage of the brother when he stands by the grave of a young sister, snatched away in purity and in-

‘nocence, “‘ere earth had profaned what was meant for the skies.” It is the lover’s ‘last word as he parts fram her who has been'the object of idolatry, and knows not whether -on earth they shall ever meet again. Is it not ‘when uttering that word our attention naturally ‘tends to that abodr, where parting shall forever cease and fare~

The heed suffers, when the heel is bruised, and well be unknown?—Balm of Gilead.

=

Fe<e2ea7Ga

ce

WATCHMAN AND REPOSITORY. ee SS

(Original.]

Legislative Responsibility. In the Watchman, No. 33, [ noticed an article from

Br. Browning on the above subject, in which he kindly refers to an article of mine on the tempe- rance cause. [tis not my purpose to oppose Br.

Browning, for [ heartily concur with him in senti- ment, with the exception of one single idea; which

is, that ‘our legislature have nobly refused, longer to

sustain the licensing system on their own responsi- bility, and have therefore thrown it upon the peo-

ple,” &c. ‘This is a mistake, of very general occur- rence. The legislature must bear the responsibility of all

the consequences of their own acts, and the people

must be@r the responsibility of their own conduct.

It is true, the sovereign power resides in the people,

as Br. Browning says, and as one of the sovereigns | it is my prerogative to call our servants to account |

for their conduct. It does not appear to my view, |

that the act of the legislature in authorizing the sale |

of ardent spirits to any amount, for a certain sum | of money, giving to the people the privilege of!

choosing the men to say, who shall engage in this

legal traffic, has any nobility in it. But it seems to

be a mean attempt to shift the yoke from their own

shoulders to those of the people. ‘The officers of government are selected, or should be selected for

their wisdom and patriotism; and they are express-

ly chosen to be the guardians of the public welfare.

Now, if I should give to young people under my

guardianship the liberty of choosing whether they |

will use ardent spirits or not, and to have it plenty |

or scarce, as it should suit their inclinations, should |

I thereby escape the responsibility of the conse-

quences that might follow their choice? And would not my wards have reason to complain of my con- |

euct? Especially, as [ took no pains to give them warning as to the results?

Here appears to be an anomaly, but it is a truth;

the people in this country, in relation to the govern-

ment, stand in the capacity both of sovereigns and wards. There is evidently, in relation to the temperance

cause, a very important duty to be performed both

by government aad people, and certainly, it is not

the duty of government to legalize a traffic so inju- rious to the people. If the members of the legisla- | ture wish to avoid all just censure and responsibility

respecting the license system, let them repeal the li-

cense law, and pass an act, making it criminal for any person to tempt or entice another to use intoxi-

cating liquors as beverage, and laying a heavy fine on all persons, who shall sell, or give to another ar-

dent spirit in such quantity as to cause intoxication,

knowing that the person who receives it is in the

habit of using it to excess. And let them cease to clog the cause of temperance, by legalizing intem- perance, or by bringing the cause to the ballot box.

Let those who deal in intoxicating liquors bear their

own responsibility, and let the cause of temperance

stand on its own foundation. Then, let every friend

of temperance and virtue, act on the principles they profess, without flinching on any occasion whatever, and we shall soon see, that tippling-houses will grow searce, and tippling go out of fashion.

E. Brown, Roxbury, Vt.

[Original.}

A Tribute to the Departed. BY REV. K. HAVEN.

Pp, in Shoreham, Feb. 1, Miss Jane D. Cook,

daughter of Harry G. and Marina Cook, aged 18 years. Disease, scarletina.

The death of this reserved, amiable and affectiun-

ate female, was sudden and unexpected to her pa- rents and numerous relatives and friends. She re-

turned home from a party of pleasure with her

youthful associates, and was taken sick the next

morning and died the day following. Never have we witnessed manifestations of deeper sympathy

*

with mourning friends, than: was evinced in the sighs and tears of a large comgregation on the solemn oc- casion.

“ Though dead, she-yet speaketh.”

Sweet home! a long, a last FanrEwELL— For there again I ne’ar shall dwell; Where in youth’s sunny days I roved With friends, by pure affection loved— A sweeter home now meets my view, Where pleasures flow forever new, Unsadden’d by a last adieu,

My father, mother, sister,.dear, (No friends on earth tome so near,) Let not your hearts in sadness mourn For one that never shail’ return To feel again your fond. embrace, Or share the pleasures of that place Where joy sat smiling on each face.

In that blest home to which I go, No cup is dashed with mortal woe; Nor joy to sudden grief is turn’d; Nor loved and lost in sorrew mourn’d— But angel-faces smile around, And heavenly strains of sweetest sound Through all her palaces resound.

And all ye relatives so dear, Who on my grave have drop’d the tear Of friendship’s deep awakened power, For one who faded like the flower, Farewell— we part to meet again, Where sickness, sin, nor death obtain; But life and bliss immortal reign-

My youthful friends, in life's gay hours— My path, like yours, was strew’d with flowers— We lately, gladly sped our way, In life, and health, and music, gay— Adieu! Let wisdom guide your feet, Till we in purer mansions meet, And all our pleasures are complete.

These halls where music’s thrilling power Beguiled the evening’s passing hour; Or where the sweet-toned youthful choir, In vocad strains, surpassed the lyre; Or where the truth in accents fell From teacher's lips to guide us well— All, all! a long, a last farewell!

And thou, fair earth, and concave blue— Spheres brighter far etteact my view— Though once I loved vour grots and bowers, Your verdant lawns, your fragrant flowers; In this blest world beyond your sky, Unfading glories meet my eye, Where ransom’d mortals never die.

[Original.]

“Blessed are they that Mourn.”

Lines, by K. Haven, on the death of two lovely

boys, who died of scarlet fever—only sons of John

and Sarah Ann Treadway, of Shoreham—named

John K. and Francis A.; the former aged two years and eight months, the latter aged eighteen months. Their deaths were so near each other that both

were interred in the same coffin, Jan. 30, °45.

What pleasures they were taking, In that dear social band,

And peace and joy were waking As by a magic wand—

And days and years went circling round, And life and bliss each member crown’d.

Of all the richer treasures That added to their joys,

Increasing all their pleasures, Were their two dar boys,

Whose artless innocence mirth Seem’d to complete their joys on earth.

Like tender blossoms throwing Their fragrance on the air,

Together they were growing, In promise bright and fair;

When suddenly the winds of death Breath’d on them pestilential breath.

Together they have faded, And quickly pass’d away;

In life, as undivided, So in the mortal day.

In one lone grave their bodies tie— In one sweet home they dwell on high.

[Original.}

Remarks concerning Correspondents. Br. Battou:—I am truly sorry that “R.,” or any

other friend, should deem it necessary to introduce

my name, or allude to my services, in relation tothe

meetings or affairs at S. Pomfret. I wish to take

291

ho part in those coneerns.. I preach where there is an open door, and respectable friends and brethren

desire; but not to intermeddle with other men’s mat-

ters.

But, that friend R., whoever he may be, was sub- stantially correct,. in-hisstatements,. [ have no rea-

son to doubt.. I would saggesst that neither of your

correspondents meant to state “palpable falsehoods,” though beth may be incorrect, in some-particulars.

They may be persons, who for some considerable

time, had not been constant attendants at the meet-

ings iw S. Pomfret. Indeed, I know that Mr. “L.

S. Murdock” has told me, repeatedly, within a few

months, that he did not often attend meeting tliere;

and others say the same. But, the reat’ difference between him and his friend

*R.,” is not very great, when the matter is impar-

tially considered. ‘The one says, the numbers were

from “15 to 40,* or so,” the other, not “less than 30;

with the exception of stormy days.” Hence, by adding the words, “or so,” which was omitted in

quoting “R.,” the meaning will be, that 30 was

about the average number, “stormy days” and “Christmas,” excepted. The difference is not worth

disputing about.

But, Mr. Murdock again misquotes “R.,” and in

that way, makes out a “‘misrepresentation.” I would

not say, he did it designedly; but sueh is the fact.

“R.” said, the number, on a given day, was “about

a hundred”; and by leaving off the word “about,”

he is made to say, that there was ‘an hundred.”

Mr. M. says, “there was ninety-one”; and is not

that “about an hundred?” But, why does Mr. M.

speak with so much confidence? He was not at meeting. Of course, he speaks from hearsay. So I presume he does, in other cases. Well, hes not .

badly informed, for there were but géinety = sons in attendance. Now, I will not follow hi

ample, and accuse hita of ‘palpable falséhood.” By no means. .

Neither will f inquire, why Mr. M. should pub- lish in the Watchman, this account of “universal satisfaction,’”—“general satisfaction,” &e This I know, however, that to make it harmonize with

what he has repeatedly told me, in presence of oth-

ers, he must mean, that there is a “universal satis-

faction” among all who are satisfied. Very well,

be itso. That is true, undoubtedly. Presuming that both your correspondents will

kindly receive these friendly remarks, as 1 am not

now calling in question the veracity of either, I hope this tritfling affair will be allowed to sleep without waking. Let us he careful to write nothing, which may irritate the feelings of each other. R. S.

It should have been 50,—the copy being obscure. —Ep.

The End of our Being,

The end of our being is to educate, bring out, and perfect the divine principles of our nature. We were made and upheld in life for this as our great

jend, that we may be true to the principle of duty within us; that we may put down all desire and ups pe:ite beneath the inward law: that we enthrene | God, the infinitely perfect Father, in our souls; thac | we may count all things as dross, in comparisen with sanctity of heart and life; that we may hunger and , thirst for daily food; that we may. resolutely and | honestly seek for and communicate tuth; that disin- | terested love and impartial justice may triumph over | every motion of selfishness and every tendency to | wrong doing; in a word, that our whole lives, labors , and conversation may express and strengthen rever- | ence for ourselves, for our fellow creatures, and above all, for Ged. Such is the good for which we are made; and in order to this triumph of virtuous and religious principles, we are exposed to tempta- tion, hardship and pain, Is suffering, then, incoa sistent with God’s love?—Channing.

}

When a man does all he cap, do not blame biga, though he succeed not well.

Ladies’ Depariment. IN

CONDUCTED BY MRS. J. R. SPOONER.

AANA RRR RA AO

[Selected. .

A Mother's Last Prayer.

BY ANN 8S. BTEPHENS.

-¢¢ First our flowers die—and then Our hopes, and then our fears—and when These are dead the debt is due, Dust claims dust—and we die, too.”’

| was very young, scarceiy beyond the verge of

infancy, the last and most helpless of three little

girls who were gathered around my poor mother’s

death-bed. When I looked on the chain of my va-

ried existence—that woof of gold and iron woven

so strangely together—the remembrance of that

young being who ,perished so early from the bosom

of her family, forms the first link which ever gives

forth a thrill of funeral music when my heart turns

to it—music which becomes more deep-toned and

solemn as that chain is strengthened by thought, and

bound together by the events of successive years.

The first human being that I can remember, was my

invalid mother, moving langaidly about her home,

with the paleness of disease sitting en her beautiful

features, and a deej: crimson spot burning with pain-

ful brightness in either cheek. I remember that her

step became unsteady, and her voice fainter and

more gentle day by day, till, at last she sunk to ‘her

bed, and we were called upon to witness her spirit

go ferth to the presence of Jehovah. They took me

to her couch, and told me to look upon my mother

before she died. ‘Their words had no meaning to

me then, but the whisper in which they were spoken

thrilled painfully through my infant heart, and I felt

that something very terrible was abeut to happen.

Pale, troubled faces were around that death pillow—

stern men, with sad heavy eyes—women overwhelin-

ed with tears and sympathy, and children, that hud-

died together shuddering and weeping, they knew

wherefore. Filled with wonder and awe, I crept to |

my mother, and berying my brow in the mass of |

rich brown hair that floated over her pillow, heavy |

with the damp of death, but still lustrous in spite of |

.disease, 1 trembled and sobbed without knowing

“why, save that all around me was full of grief and Yamentation. She murmured and placed her pale

‘hands on my-head. My little heart swelled, but I

‘lay motionless and filled with awe. Her lips moved, |

-and a voice tremulous and very low, came faintly

‘over them. ‘Those words, broken and sweet as they

were, left the first dear impression that ever remain-

ed on my memory—* Lead her not into temptation,

but deliver her from evil.” This was my mother’s

‘last prayer! in that imperfect sentence, her gentle

voice went out forever. Young as I was, that pray- er had entered my heart with a solemn strength. 1!

raised my head from its beautiful reeting-place, and | gazed awe-stricken upon the face of my mother. |

Ok, bow an hour had changed it! The crimson |

flush was quenched on her cheeks, a moistare lay | upou her forehead, and the gray mysterious shad- |

ows of death were stealing over each thin feature, |

yet her lips still moved, and her deep blue eyes

vwere bent on me, surcharged with spiritual bright-

ness, as if they would have left one of their vivid unearthly rays, as the seal of her death-bed cove-

nant. Slowly as the sunbeams pale at nightfall from | the leaves of a flower, went out’the star-like fire of

those eyes, a mist came over ‘them, softly as the

dews of nightfall upon that flower, and she was dead. Even then'l knew not the meaning of the solemn change I had witnessed, but when they bore

me forth from my mother’s death-bed, my heart was filled with fear and misgiving.

All were overwhelmed with the weight of their ewn sorrow, and I was permitted to wander around

my desolated home unchecked and forgotten. I stood wondering by as they shrouded my mother,

and smoothed the long hair over her pale forehead.

Silently { watched them spread the winding-sheet, and fold those small pale hands over her bosom, but when they closed the blinds, and went forth, my lit-

tle heart swelled with a sense of unkindness in shut-

ting out the sunshine, and the sweet summer air

which had so often called a smile to her pale lips, when it came on her bed, fragrant from the rose thickets and the white clover field, which lay be-

neath the windows they had se cruelly darkened.

The gloom of that death-chamber made me very sorrowful, but [ went to the bed, turned down the

linen, and laid my haad caressingly on the pale face

which lay so white and motionless in the dim light.

It was cold asice. I drew back affrighted, and steal-

ing from the room, sat down alone, wondering and full of dread.

They buried her beneath a lofty tree on the high bank of ariver. A waterfall raises its eternal an-

them near it, and the sunset flings its last golden

shadows among the long grass that shelters her. I remember it all—the grave with its newly-broken

sed—the coffin placed on the brink. The clergyman,

with his black surplice sweeping the earth, and the

concourse of neighbors gathered around the grave,

each lifting his hat reverently as the solemn hymn

swelled on the air, answered by the lefty anthem

surging up frem the waterfall, and the breeze rust-

ling through the dense boughs of that gloomy tree.

Then came the grating of the coffin, as it was low- ered into its narrow bed, the dull, hoNew sound of

falling earth, and those most solemn words of “ dust to dust, and ashes to ashes.” With mournful dis-

tinetness were all these things impressed on my

young mind, but my mother’s last prayer is written more forcibly than all, in characters that but deepen with maturity. It has lingered about my heart a blessing and a safeguard, pervading it with a music that cannot die. Many times when the sheedless- ness of youth would have led me into error has that sweet voice, now hushed forever, intermingled with my thoughts, and, like the rosy link of a fairy chain, drawn me from my purpose. @ft, when my brow has been wreathed with flowers for the festival, when my cheek has been flushed, and my eyes have sparkled with anticipated pleasure, have [ caught the reflection of those eyes in the mirror, and the thought of the look which rested upon me when mother died—that broken supplication in heaven has come back to my memory; the clustering roses have beentorn from my head; sad and gentle mem- ories have drank the unnatural glew frem my cheeks, and my thoughts have been carried back to my dost parent, and from her up to the heaven she inhabits. The festival and all its attractions, have been lost in

gentle reflections, and I have been “delivered from

temptation.” Again when the sparkling wine-cup

has almost bathed my lips, amid merriment and smiles and music, has the last sad prayer of my mo- ther seemed to mingle with its ruby contents, and I have put away the goblet, that ‘1 might not be Jed into temptation.”” When my hand has rested in that of the dishonorable, and trembled to the touch of:him who says in his heart there is no God, as that voice seemed to flow with his luring accents, I have lis-

7

tened to it, and fled as from the serpent of my na-

tive forest.

WATCHMAN AND REPOSITORY.

It is scarcely possible to coneeive of a sweet-temper- ed child, brought wp ander the influence of fretful, scolding and ill-tempered parents. A little acid in- troduced into a vessel of sweet liquor, will soou

turn the whole into vinegar: anda sour temper in a

parent can scarcely fail of a similar effect upon the whole domestic circle. Even an habitual cast of the parent’s countenance may have an important and

lasting influence upon the child. Nor is the influ-

ence of the children of a family upon one another

by any means to be overlooked. The impressions

made in the family cirele are permanent and lasting.

If the children are permitted to teaze one another,

they may be expected to be ill-tempered. If one is

permitted to tyrannize over the rest, that one will

grew up witha haughty, tyranvical spirit. The passions and emotions, both good and bad, are

strengthened by exercise or indulgence. —. Moth, Mag.

Footsteps of Angels. BY LONGFELLOW.

When the hours of day are numbeic

And the voice of the night

Wakes the better soul that slumber:

To a holy calm delight;

Ere the evening lamps are lighted, And, like phantoms grim and tall,

Shadows from the fitful fire-light,

Dance upon the parlor wall;

Then the forms of the departed

Enter at the open door; ‘The true belov’d ones, the true-hearted,

Come to visit us once more;

He, the young and strong, who cherished

Noble longings for the strife—

By the road side fell and perished,

Weary with the march ef life!

They, the hely ones and weakly,

Who, the cross of suffering bore,

folded their pale hands so meekly ,— Spake with us on earth no more!

And with them the being beauteous Who unto my youth was given,

More than all things else te love me,

And is now a saint an Heaven.

‘With a slow and noiseless footstep,

Comes that messenger divine,

Takcs the vacant chair beside me,

Lays her gentle hand in mine.

And she sits and gazes at me, With those deep and tender eyes,

Like the stars so still und saint-like, Looking downwards from the skies.

Uttered not, yet comprehended,

Is the spirit’s voiceless prayer,

Soft rebukes, in blessings ended, Breathing from her lips of air.

@ though depressed and lonely,

All my fears are laid aside, if I but remember only,

Such as these have lived and died.

City Lavres.—City ladies boast of being more

delicate than country maidens, The one breathes Again and again. when the throbbings of ambition | an gir polluted with many breaths; the other inhales

have almost filled my soul, and the praises of my | the breeze freshened over the new-mown hay. The fellow-men, have become a precious incense, the

still smal! voice of my mother’s prayer has trembled over each heartstring, and kindled it to a more heal- thy music; in infancy, youth and womanhood, that prayer has been to me asholy remembrance—a sweet

thought full of melody, not the less beautiful that there is sadness in it.

[Selected.]

A Suggestion 'to Parents.

The habitual temper of the parent,—the tones of his voice—even his looks and gestures—all have an important hearing upon the character of the child.

one drinks water from the sewer-mingling pump, or through impure pipes from the open horse-pond;

the other pours it fromthe pure spring. The one walks over the hard pavements, along the dusty piles of bricks; the other trips over the soft grass, along the graceful rows of trees. The one is pale and sickly, from watching at the evening concert; the

other is ruddy and healthy, from rising with ithe

morning birds. ‘The one is the lily of the green- house; the ether is the rose beside the stone wall. in the.city #6 seen. and -admired the ingenious handi-

work of man; in the country, are traced and hallow-

ed the stately trappings of the Almighty.

_— s&s ~~ «

tt fh &

—- ian oe oe Ee Lee eek ae en a CU ee

Joseph,

WATORMAN AND REPOSITORY.

Youths’ Department. eae RRA

CONDUCTED BY MRS. J. R. SPOONER.

(Original. }

The Force of Kindness.

Much has been said and written of late on the use of kindness in subduing evil propensities, and many

instanees are brought forward ‘to illustrate this prac-

tiee; and I know of many where it has been of more |

avail than punishment, one of which I will relate,

as the circumstances attending it, took place ina

house where I once resided.

——e_

Some years since, a vessel arrived in Montreal,

containing fifty boys about ‘the ages of twelve and fourteen. These children were sent out by a socie-

ty in London, called “the children’s friends society,” |

whose object it was, to provide for seme of the poor |

miserable children found in that great city. They

were sent under the care of a man, who was in-|

structed to apprentice them to respectable and kind

masters;

mestics, and in the choice of this, the boys were to

be consulted.

whom I[ will call Mr. Reed,—wanted to engage a |

thoy in the latter capacity, and he selected one from |

about thirty of the number, who expressed his wil-

lingness to live with him, and to serve him. Mr. |

Reed knew nothing whatever of the bay, and he had |

chosen him from the rest, because he.liked his.ap- | pearance and manners. Joseph, for that was his

name—was aremarkably fineJooking boy, witha

pleasant, good-natured countenance, and his master

hoped that he wasa good boy, or if not, that he} F 2 ys : | to do well,” and that he might no longer continue in |

| a course, would become so under his care. The family were

quite pleased with Joseph, who was very well be-

haved, and well calculated for a boy of his age ; in-

deed his talents were so good, that Me. Reed in-

tended to do well by him, and to place him in a few

years, in a way of life that would be likely to make

him a prosperous man. Mrs. Reed was also very |

kind to Joseph, in whom she was much interested, |

feeling that she was in a measure responsible for

his future conduct, as he was placed very much un-

der her care. All went en much to the satisfaction

of all parties for some weeks, when some suspicions were excited as to Joseph’s dishonesty. Some tri-

fling sums of money had been missed from time to |

time, and, at first, it was supposed that they had | been mislaid, but on this taking plaee several times,

as [ have suid, was suspected of the theft.

It gave his kind,friends great pain te think*he. could

be so ungrateful to them, as to commit such a fault,

yet they could not doubt it ;

Reed called him into theslibrary, aad after shutting

the door, that Joseph might not be mortified by the conversation being overheard, he spoke ‘to hima long time on the subject with the utmost kindness, |

cand represented how wicked he had been in break-

ing one of God’s commandments, and how wrong

and unfeeling it was to make such a return to those

from whose hands he experienced such kind treat- ment; and Mr. Reed also told him-how much inju-

ry he did to himself by adopting such a course,

which, if persevered in, would bring certain dis-

grace upon kis character, and be the means of pre- venting him.from ever becoming either a good or respectable man. Joseph felt very:bad indeed on

being spoken to thus, and cried very much, but he

would not confess he had taken the money. His master endeavored te make him acknowledge it, and told him he need not deny it fromthe fear of pun- ishment, as.‘he would 2zo¢ punish him; but it was all

‘in vain, so after giving him. some good advice, Jo-

seph was sent downstairs. For some:time after- wards, it appeared as if he was determined to do well, and he was treated as usual, and no.allusions

made to his fault, but his friends were careful not to

place him in temptation, as they feareti they might have done before.

some to different trades, and some as do- |

It so happened, that about this time, | ‘the gentleman in whose house [ was then living, and |

'though he was often entrusted with money.

so one evening Mr. | : : eS he owes to the force of kindness.

One evening the muffin man ealled at the door,

and Joseph was told to take a dozen, and to desire the man to cell the next day for his money, as Mrs. Reed happened to have no small change, and she

wanted the muflins particularly that night, as she

had company. The next morning she put a quar-

ter of a dollar ona shelf in the kitchen, and told

Joseph she had done so, and desired him to pay the

| man with it when he called. ‘The man came, and

| Mrs. Reed was surprised when Joseph ran up to

| her room, to say he had called for his pay. ‘ Why

| Joseph, » said she, “don’t you remember, | told you

| only a couple of hours ago, that I had put the mo-

ney for him on the shelf inthe kitchen?” “Yes

;{marm,” replied he, “and I have looked there, but |cannot find it.” **Well that is very strange, but | your master has perhaps taken it, rot knowing that

ir placed it there for any particular purpose. I will

| enquire into it when he comes in, and here is some ‘more for the muffin man.’

| Mr. Reed, however, had seen wothing of it, and

on locking into the matter, it was #ery apparent that

| Joseph.had purloined it. ‘He again spoke with the

‘boy, as he had done before, and with the same re-

sult. Joseph seemed much distressed,

| nately denied the theft.

|

but obsti-

That evening, when the

|family were assembled for prayer—for it was their

‘custom to unite at this time in thanking God for bis

| gooduess—Mr. Reed selected some portions of scrip-

‘ture, which he thought likely te make some impres- |

{sion on Joseph; and at the clese of his prayer, he |

| commended him especially to the care of God, pray-

‘ing thathe would keep him from temptation and

sin, and that he would give him repentance for his |

| faults, so thathe might ‘ cease to do evil and learn

which must in the end bring him to ruin.

Mr. Reed prayed very earnestly, and said a good

deal more. He was a very good man, and was re-

ally distressed at finding that Joseph had not only |

taken what did not Belong to him, but had also not |

jhesitated to add falsehood to the other sin. | prayers were over, Joseph stood for sometime with-

“— saying a word; at last he burst inte tears, and |

|going up to his master, took him by the hand, and

| trie d to speak, but he cried so that he could not say ja word for some minutes, and he then faltered out,

| « I did take the money, sir, [ took ay you have

| | missed, but I never will take any more.” Mr. Reed

land his wife were much affected, and pleased by

| Joseph’s avowal of his fault, and his resolution to | forsake it; and Iam happy to say that during the

time he remained with them, he never repeated it,

He is

now a man, and I hope he never forgets how much

o. Be Sd

East Randolph.

[Selected.]

Honor the Aged.

“The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be

found in the way of righteousness.” ‘ Thou shalt rise up before the huary head, and honor the face of

the old man, and fear before the Lord thy Gad.”

Such are tke express precepts of scripture.

sonable in itself, and so clearly commanded by God,

is reverence from the young to the aged, it may be fairly said, that the young person who fails in so.ob- | vious a duty isa stranger to the fear of God, and |

destitute of those dispositions which alone can ren-

der youth amiable, manhood virtuous, and old age | honorable. Honor the aged, because a disposition in youth to |

give due honor to age, is-one of the fairest indica- tions of general excellence of character; and a par- |

ticular blessing is often seen to rest upon those who |

vhave treated the aged with conscientioas respect. | On the.other hand, the youth who ean despise and | ridicule the aged, gives sad evidence-of a generally | vicious and depraved disposition. He often be- comes:a tyrant in'his family, a quarrelseme neigh-

After |

So rea- |

[bor, a despiser_ ‘of religion, perhaps a a murderer! And many instances are on record (besides that of the children of Bethel, who mocked the. prophet Elisha) in which divine displeasure had evidently rested on those who refused the respect due to old age.

THE WATCHMAN. RN nen

ELI BALLOW, EDITOR.

MON TPELIER, MARCH 9, 1845.

“Is Christ the igat of the Resurrection 2”

In our last, is an article on this subject, signed “ Ju-

venis.”” 4 long time ago, this same writer sent us the following question, and desired our answer, viz: ‘* Would

man have existed holy and happy in the future state, if

Christ had not come into the world?’? This question

was put on a supposition which is contrary to fact—* if

Christ had not come ”’—but, Christ has come, therefore, the supposition is untrue. This supposes that the plan

of the divine government had been a different one from

what it really is. Now, if any event in the grand chain

of causes and effects had not been,—especially, one as | important as the coming of the Savior—we confess, that,

| on such a supposition, we cannot tell what sort of a plan

| would have existed. It is aboyt as much as we care to | undertake, to search out the true connexion existing be- tween causes and effects, as the government of God real-

| ly exists, without speculating, as to what would, or,

| would not have been, if some other particular event had not been, which has been; or, in other words, if the plan

of the divine government had been a different one from

what it really is. We might ask with just as much pro-

| priety, ‘* {f God had not created Adam and Eve, would

| the human race have existed ?’? [cannot tell. It might

| not, and then again, it might have existed, if God had | seen fit to create it in some other way beside the one he | has devised. In short, d think it absurd, to ask any such

questions, as to what would, or would not have been, in

| the divine governmeat, if something else had been differ- ent from what it really is.

* In Nature’s chain, whatever link you strike,

Tenth or ten thousandth, breaks the chain alike.”

The question, ‘*Is Christ the agent of the Resurrec-

tion ?’’ is a proper question—very different from the one

noticed above; and must be answered by scripture testi- mony alone. The scriptures furnish much evidence that

| Christ, not only commences the work of salvation with

men in the flesh, but that he is ** Lord both of the living

| and the dead ’’—that his kingdom or reign embraces the

resurrection of all mankind—that it is his to reconcile 2il to God, and complete or perfect the work of making

allentirely free from sin. He does not complete the work of salvation in this world,

tends beyond this life.

That Christ is the agent of the resurrection, is plain,

because the apostle says, ‘* God shall raise us up dy Je-

| sus.’? 2 Cor. iv. 14. ** By’? denotes agency. Jesus

said, ‘* J will raise him up in the Jast day.” John vi. 39,

40, 44. These declarations are in my judgment, conclu-

| sive to prove that Christ is the agent of the resurrection.

I cannot discover what bearing ‘‘ Juvenis’ ” reasoning

about Christ’s “ creating a new truth,’ &c., has on this subject, or, an.any subject. Truth is a correct state-

ment or representation, of what really was, is, or will be.

If it was in the plan of the Creator, that Christ should,

not only * bring life and immortality to light,’’ but also

be the agent of the resurrection, then, Christ no more

makes a new truth by being the agent of the resurrec-

tion, than he does by saving men in this world. Christ

| made no truth with reference either to the future or pre-

| sent world—made.nothing true, that was before untrue.

|:/He does nothing to alter the original plan of God, but

| simply to carry that plan into effect. -** Juvenis ” allows | that Christ is the agent of salvation in this world, and

yet all his reasoning about Christ’s creating a new truth

| applies precisely the same with regard to present salva-

tion, as it does with regard to Christ’s being the agent of

| the resurrection. Be it understood, however, I do not

|.ay, but that Christ might have raised. men ftom death, iif he had, never come in the,flesh. He came among men

.in the flesh, to commence bis, miasion here, and to do al!

therefore, his reign ex-

that Jesus saye he come to do, and in addition, he is to raise us from death to immortality—his works extends beyond death even until death is destroyed, and all

things are reconciled and subdued to the Father that **God may be all in all.”” See 1 Cor. xv. 21—28.

When I become convinced that Christ does nothing for any of the human race, subsequent to natural death, I shall renounce the idea that he is the Saviour of the whole world, and the complete Saviour of any part

thereof, because, he saves but few here, comparatively,

and, none in this life are perfeetly freed from sin. He does not reconcile **all things’’ in this life, nor any per-

fectly.

I have been led to believe that Christ is the full and

complete Saviour of the whole world—that he must reign until all enemies are put under him,—until sin is

entirely finished, death destroyed, and perfect and ever-

lasting righteousness brought m. I dare not, with the Bible in my hand, say that the work of Christ does not

extend beyond this life—that he has nothing to do with | our resurrection. I say with he apostle, “For ye are

dead, and your life is hid with Christ nGod.’’ God from

all eternity designed the human race for immortality and |

happiness. He sent His Son here to reveal Himself and | his plan of salvation to man. He raised Christ from the | dead to reveal and make evidence of that immortality | fer which man was designed. Christ commenced in this world, his mission which was to give complete salvation

to all men—to save from ignorance, error, sin and death —and the resurrection is one grand link in the system of

means by which this object is to be accomplished. Christ |

is the agent of the resurrrection as he is in all the ope- rations of his Kingdom. He is under God the full, com- plete Saviour of the whole world. At least, he is so re- garded by me. |

Ministerial Etiquette.

Most of the Partialist preachers in this region, when asked by Universalist ministers, on funeral occasions, to

take a zeat in the pulpit and a part in the services, cheer- fully comply with the request; but, when they attend funerals and Universalist preachers are present, they ex- tend no invitation to them. Now, we confess our igno- rance of the principle or rule of eivility by which they are governed in this proceeding. Does this practice correspond with the Golden Rule? Is it doing to others

as they wish others to do by them? Nay, they wish to

be invited to a seat in the pulpit and to pray on such oc- casions; but, they refuse to do that by others, which |

they wish for themselves. This is unchristian. If we

could not conscientiously invite a clergyman to participate with us in a funeral service, we are sure, we could not

accept of an invitation from him. What sort of etiquette ie that which says, ‘‘I cannot invite Mr.—— or Mrs.——.

WATCHMAN AND REPOSITORY.

vility to him as a brother of the human family—recog- Univetsatism in the South. nizing him as a man, having the same right to believe,| Br. Allen Fuller, formerly of New England, hae beew profess and preach his doctrme, that we have to believe | for several years laboring iv the South. He is one who

and promulgate ours, We do not mean thereby to give | took an active part in getting resolutions passed in the any countenance to what we may deem, the errors of his | South Carolina and Georgia Conventions of Universal-

head, or the faults ot bis heart. If he is a public speak- | ists, protesting against any action of Universalists in the er, and sustains a eharacter comporting with his profess- | North, which should show wp the fact that Universal-

ion, this is all we desire to know, in order to extend an | ism and Slavery are antagonistic and irreconcilable prin-

invitation to him to speak im public. Hf he delivers | ciples. But after all efforts, to the seandal of our reli- what we deem to be falsehood, we will reject mt, and in | gion, to conceal in the South this its most glorious char-

a proper manner, expose it and assist others to reject it. | acteristic, it will manifest itself even to the natural per-

Were we invited to participate with a Partialist clergy- | ceptions ef the people, and while they are determined to man ina funeral service, or any other, we should not hug to Slavery, they will not embrace Universalism.

infer from this, that the inviter intended thereby to man- But we took up our pen to say, that Br. Fuller has re-

ifest the least fellowship for our distinguishing tenets or cently written a letter to the Editor of the Primitive Ex-

to give the least countenance to what he conceives to pounder, of Alphadelphia, Mich., in which he declares

be error in our faith. Far froin it. himself qaite disheartened in to respect the condition and We think the practice to which we have adverted, is | prospects of our cause in Carolina, and the whole South.

inconsistent with the principle of equal nghts, recipro- | Why is tim the South, the * —6 South,’’ deasting

cal courtesy, reason and Christian charity;—though it | much liberality of mind? Tde Editor of the Expounder may be consistent with the principle of Partialism; nev- | has suggested the true cause of the difficulty, im the fol- ertheless, we have no disposition to beg any favors or lowing paragraph:— notice at the hands of the Partialist clergy. We are! ** We doubt not that in some parts of the Southern witling and ready to meet them half-way on the score of | gre anna age = a more om pe y me

~- . ar : . f the section to which the above extract refers. But iw christian, reciprocal civility, and hye have th idea © none of the slave-holding States has it ever made any fawning or crouching before them in sycophantic rever- | great progress, and the moment we step over the boun- ence to petition for their clemency and public attention. | dary bine of slavery, the moral atmosphere seems averse

Indeed, so tur as the mere putting down of Partialism is | to its living energies. St is not adapted to their habits of 4. we believe, the mere peenecintive ‘thalé teens: | thought; its spirit is not in unison with their ‘ peculiar

eemverrer r — P | institutions.’ ¥t teaches that all mankind are brethren, ment of others may be, the sooner will the system be born with equal rights and privileges, children of one numbered with ‘* the things that were.’’ and the same heavenly Father, and destined to the same All ee tter, is, that the princi- | mortality of bliss and glory. With this doctrine,

Se anee Se _ nls - matter, &, tha © princi- slavery can never be reconciled. Those, and those only ple usually regarded in the interchange of the common | can consistently advocate slavery in this world, whe be- courtesies and civilities of social life, be observed—the | lieve that many will be held in eternal slavery to sin and principle of equal rights and mutual reciprocity—that | %4t@n in the next. Partialism and slavery have the same

the professed ministers of Jesus Christ should practice | pomanags, aueviee Cip. the duane Seattany SES Re : : i | will aink into oblivion.’’ the great rule laid down by their Master, viz., ‘* All, . things whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so to them.,”’

To Those who owe Us. Our terms are, $1,50 in advence, or within three

' months from the time of subscribing, invariably. The Value of our Papers. | current volume is now two-thirds out. Will all those

How mang poner have nis stay ars het wee * | who ure owing us, either for the past or present volume, first rate sermon,’’ or ‘‘arficle you gave us in the |

Watchman last week. I declare, it is worth alone, the poh cea mo mec at " ie hoe 9

subscription price of the paper.’? They get many such | nammmeiane tee ny “ “ee 2 Ww seat articles in the course of the year, and beside, marriages, | saih aim ms Wed wo pt ea k preg “a deaths, appointments, nutices of Conferences, Associa- | . * y CARES, Ge BES (RUG. CHS - tions, and Conventions—d Giiek dit, seh oi” owing usto pay wothout delay. Three dollars will

, , | pay forthe present and next volume. Postmasters will notices of new preachers, converts from Partialism, re- ;

| f d the , if polit \ movals, ordinations, dedications, &c. &c. beside some | i money, S gecnaly exynated to doen

secular intelligence, reading for children, &c. &c., and | } } yet, some think they can’t afford to pay $1,50 per year | By a letter just received we leasn that Br. D. M. Reed, for so great a privilege. They are so poor, they can’t | has accepted ap invitation to take the pastoral charge of afford to take a paper, and yet they spend, during the | the Universalist Society in Orford, N. H. He has al-

or Miss —— toa social or visiting party at my house, be- | year, twice and perhaps five times as inuch as the paper | ready commenced his services in that pleasant village,

eause they are so poor, or their characters are so bad; costs, for things not half as necessary—for mere superfiui- | °"4 desires a)l papers and letters imtended for him to Or- but, when these same persuns invite me to visit at their ties, and in many instances, for that which does them

house, I will go, by all means.’’ If there is any great| more hurt than good. | share of propriety, politeness or civility in such a pro-

ceeding, it is entirely out of our sight. | Does not the practice of some Universalists seem to |

| say, ‘‘we had just as lief, all the Universalist papers |

Let Partialism fill up the land with | Do not these clergymen reason in this way on this | would die as not. |

subject? Do they not say wich themselues, “If we in-| jts ten thousand tracts and papers—let it triumph, and | vite Universalist ministers to sit in the pulpit with us| ride on to victory! We care not.’’ And, how very soon |

aad consequently to make a prayer on such occasions, it would this victory be achieved, if our papers should | is recognizing them as ministers, as evangelical—it is cease to be issued! It seems to us, that many do not giving them too much countenance, and perhaps, an im-| half realize the importance and necessity of sustaining |

pression might be made on some minds favorable to| papers in the various sections of the moral heritage. them. If we should practice in this way, it would have

a tendency to destroy in the minds of our people, those On our fist page the reader will find an excellent ser-

deep-rooted, strong, tough prejudices against Universal-| mon on an excellent and important subject. It is from ists, which have so jong existed as an impassable barrier | the pen of one of the beast preachers in our order. Jus-

retarding the progress of belief in that sentiment. It) tice to Br. Williamson requires us to state, that he did

would give our people liberty to hear the advocates of | not prepare the manuscript for the press. The sermon

the doctrine—to listen to them without regarding it as a| was delivered by him in Woodstock, last summer, and a sin to do so—and to judge what they declare, with some | lady who heard and admired it, afterwards copied it degree of candor and impartiality. This would be dan-| from the original manuscript. During one of our tours

gerous to the interests of Partialism, therefore, we can-| we happened to come in contact with this copy and beg-

not do it! But, when any of these ‘‘ministers of satan’’| ged it for publication. We offer no apology for our se-

extend any civility to us, we accept of it—we join with | lection, but simply say, if the author had prepared it for

ford, N. H. We have the fullest confidence that Br.

Reed will do well for our cause there, and that our

friends there will do well by him. We Jearn with pleas- ure that there is a good degree of religious interest now

manifested in the Society, and they are to have preach-

ing every Sabbath during the ensuing year. Heretofore, we believe, they have never had more than half the time,

and sometimes only one quarter. They are now ine good way to enjoy prosperity.

From a letter publisned in the Gospel Messenger, of Wetumpka, Ala., we learn that Rev. James Martin, a

Methodist preacher of good standing, has become a con- vert to the glorious doctrine of a world’s salvation.

Br. A. B. Grosh, formerly the editor of the Magazine

and Advocate, has just removed from a place in Mary- land with an ineffable name, to Reading, Berks Co., Pa., ,

and desires to be addressed accordingly. We hope Br. G. has found a good place, for we have

always regarded him as a talented, writer and preacher,

besides being an honest Dutchman. There, isn’t that

flat—tery? them in funeral exercises as a matter of policy to help ourselves—to extend our influence—to counteract theirs;

—and, to do this, without acknowledging the doctrine of equal rights and privileges’’!

When we ask a Partialist clergyman to participate in a service with us, we do it ae a matter of courtesy or ci-

the press with his own, careful revising hand, the com-

position, especially the punctuation, would probably have Br. C. S. of Washinton, your letter came so late that

appeared more complete. Read it, whoever thou art, | we judge it not best to insert the sketch of the Inaugur-

gentle, or ungentle reader, it will, if well digested, do ' ation.

Glad to hear from you again after a long silence. | Your letter next week.

thy soul good. We hope Br. W. will pardon the liberty |

we have taken.

a: @2awia A A

— —

WATCHMAN AND REPOSITORY.

Remittances fer the Watchman. B. Hyde So. Mailford N. ¥. 93,00. J. Caswell E.

Lyman, $3,00. A. Aldrich, Canton N. Y¥. $1,00. P. M. No. Hartland, for 8S. T. and C. W. $1,50 each.

— —

Vews tems.

Resignation of tHe Presipent or Harvarp Cottece.—The Honorable Josiah Quincy, who has been 16 years President of the University, sent in his resignation on Wednesday, to take effect at the close of the Academic year. He has attained his 78d year. The follwing is an extract from his letter.

*« Xithough [ shall soon cease to superintend the affairs of Harvard College, I can never be indifferent to her interests. Whatever knowledge of her con- cerns, ny long oversigt of them may have given me, and whatever intellectual power may be continued | ao me, shall be at her service and devoted to her cause ;—and especially to the greatest of all causes,

Mexican Consut at New Orveans.—The Jef- fersonian Republican of the 13th inst., says:—* We hear that Senor Almonte, the Mexican Minister at Washington, has given directions to Senor Arran- gois, Mexican Consul at this port, to close his office and leave in ten days.” ~

HMorrrace.—There seems to be a dreadful state of demoralization in the city of Philadelphia. The Ledger says, the rioting propensities of the adults seems te have extended to the children, and daily outrages are perpetrated by gangs ef boys, upon one another, with impunity. A party of several young mebites met with a modest, unebtrusive little lad,

Appointments. OR ee

Br. J. W. Ford will preach in Greensboro the fifth Sunday in March. P .. pune will preach at Westford the 5th Sabbath in

arch.

Br. K. Haven will preach ia Habbardton on the 5th Sabbath in March.

The Editor appoints to preach in Williston the 5th Sunday in March.

Married. rs

between ten and eleven years of age, who was return- | In this village, 16th iast., by Azel Spalding, Esq., Mr. ing from school, and accosted him with the inquiry, ‘“* ave you for the Hynnas orthe Snappers?” Before he could reply, he was knecked down and kicked in the lower part of the abdemen by three of them: the little fellow knew his assailants by . = only. The poor child has died of his injuries. ‘Iwuly the

—her religious freedom.”

Murper in THe Avavrn Prisox.—A daring mur- | der was committed in the State Prison on the 16th instant. ‘The prisoners had just taken up their line | of march for the chapel to attend religious services, | when a convict from the Southern part of the State, | named James Gorden, turned suddenly round and stabbed the — behind him—also a con- | viet named Wyatt—with the blade of a pair of scis- | sors, in the abdomen. The instrument entered in | front and lodged agaiust the back bone. The wound- ed man expired in half an hour, and the murderer | was put in irons to be delivered upto the authorities. | The two persens occupied contiguous cells, and it is | supposed had some private cause of quarrel, |

{

Prorits or SuHor Brackine.—Every body has, heard et “ Day & Martin’s Blacking.” As an illus- tration ef the profits ef blacking making, and the | extent of the business of the parties, it may be men- | tioned that the executors of Day & Martin have, | under “an erder of the Master of the Rolls, to pay £400@ a year out of th various legatees. Mr.” 00@ to a Blied Asylain.

’ rafits of the business, to |

in also bequeathed £168, |

Tus Pustic Heacta.—Dr. J. H. Griscom will | commence a series of lectures at the Society Library, on Monday evening wext, on the importance of fresh air and ventilation te health and longevity. ‘The sub- Jeet is a mest impertant ene, and the talents and ac- qniremeuts of the lecturer give assurance ‘that it will ®etreated of im a manner that cannot fail te admin- éster te tke public heaefit.—N. Y. News.

* There is a time for all things,’ said a crusty old fellow te bis wife. ‘Vl believe that,’ answered his avife in a sharp vinegar voice, ‘ when you pay fer your mewapepers.” Hit him again old woman.

A cerrespondent of the London Times says—‘Few wisiters ef the poor are, 1 apprehend, aware thut | we skeets of double imperial brown papec, pasted | at the edge to form one, (and ata cost of ,less.than #ix cents.) If laid over a bed with one blanket un- der, will produce more warmth than three ordinary

city of *‘ Brotherly Love” is earning a most uneavia- dle notoriety.

Civitization.—A savage once said toa white |man who reproached him for wantimg the conven- | iences of society, ‘‘ Your whele life is spent in labor- ing for the things we have learned to do without.”

A man named James Eager who was convicted in New York, on Wednesday, the 19th inst., for the murder of a man named tlliams, was sentenced ‘hy Judge Edmonds to be hung ou the 9th day of May next.

“Every execution furnishes an additional candi- date tor the gallows.”—Dr. Lushington.

STATE OF VERMONT.

A PROCLAMATION. By the Governor.

Penitence humiliation and prayerare at once the duty and the privilege of guilty ont carat man. While the Almighty knoweth the proud afaroff, standing towards them in the at- titude of inflexible justice,he delighteth to dwell with the humble and the contrite. and promises to the poor in spirit the richest and purest of all conceivable blessings. And with repentance and humiliation he connects, also, blessings to

| communities—even the turning away from them of deserved wrath and threstened jutigments. ‘ At what time I shall speak concerning » nation and concerning a kingdom, to pluck upand destroy it,,if that nation : —— whom I[ have pronoun- ced, turn from their evil, | awill repent of the evil that I thought to do unto them.” By such motives are we, as indi- viduals and as acommunity, invited and encouraged to humble ourseives ‘before God, and seek his favor and his blessing, through Christ our Redeemer.

I do, therefore in accordance with the hallowed custom de- rived from our puritan fathers, and impelled by a .sense.of .our need of the Divine forgiveness and blessing, hereby appoint Friday, the élaventh day of April nezt, to be deserved by the people of this State. as a day of ‘fasting, humiliation and pray - er. And [ do-earnestly recommend to them a suspension, on that day, of all labor and recreation, inconsistent with a just sense of the necessity, and the purpose of its observance.

Let-us, on that day, as individuals, in our places of ‘retire- ment, as families around our domestic altars, and as a commu- nity. in the places consecrated to public devotion, make con- fession of sin, implore forgiveness, and promise amendment. Let it be made an occasion of thorough individual self-exam- ination, and a thoughtful consideration of the pubilc sins, both |

| David Barton of Calais, to Lemira L. Hopkins, of Mont- pelier.

in St. Johnsbury, 13th inst., by Rev. L. H. Tabor, Mr. William Carter, jr., to Miss Nancy M. Lord, all of St.

| Johnsbury. | &n Strafford, March 6th, by Rev. A. €. Cutter, Mr. | Jackson Eastman to Miss Sarah Gilman. On the same | day, by the same, Mr, H, H. Hill to Miss Rosetta East- | man, all of Strafford. | In Strafford, March 18th, Mr. John Cilley, of Tun- | bridge, to Miss Sarah Chamberlin, of the former place.

In West Fairlee, March 11th, by Rev. Mr. Bosworth, | Mr. Simon C. Dow, of Strafford, to Miss Mary Morse, |.of the former place. | Ia Thetford, March 18th, by Rev. E. G. Babcock, Mr. | John Simons, of Hartford, to Miss Sarah Judd, of the | former place. | In Bridgewater, on the 11th inst., by Rev. R. Streeter, | Mr. Ivory L. Vaughn, of Woodstock, and Miss Maria | Palmer, of B.

| Died,

| In Woodstock, of consumption, oa the 15th inst., Miss | Asenath Powers, aged 45 years. Then, peacefully, | closed a life of industry, virtue, and piety in the bosom | of a kind and attentive family, and under the, hopeful smiles of heaven. ’

In Strafford, Feb. 24, Mrs. Thankful P. aged 70. Mrs. Preston was taken away very s . When about her dinner she complained of pain in her neck and head. Soon after while her'hueband was at the shed for wood he heard an uncommon noise, ran quickly in and found her prostrated on the floor. He remaved her to the bed. She complained of being cold and thirsty. Placed warm blankets around her, and there being no one around his ‘house he started in haste for his daughter, Mrs Robi in a few minutes returned and found her in the last struggles of death. A few more breaths and her spirit was jn the spirit Jand.

“ Behold the sad impending stroke! Which now arrests our eyes ;

The silken bands of union broke, A tender mother dies.

For you who round her body mourn, And drop the flowing tears ,

How many sorrows she hath borne In all her lengthened years.

Her sorrows now are at an ead, The Lord did for her call ;

And Jesus is her only friend, Her life, her health, -her all.”

Mrs. Preston was one of the best of woman—died re- of our own community, and of the nation of which it forms a} spected by her neighbors, friends, and heartily loved by part—taking as our standard of judgment the Word of the liv-| her children who deeply mourn her departure. May ing God, in its plain, direct and comprehensive teachings. And | heaven’s smiles—and earth’s blessings soften their grief,

4lankets or over a single coverlet, will be warmer | us our individual sins and the nation its transgressions ; and to

than one blanket only, and willdast with a little care | a whole winter.’

——_—_-_— The Indians recently stele seventeen horses in |

Gen. Burleson’s neighborhood in ‘Texas, leaving but a single animal upon which they could be pursued.

Meruopist Eerscopat Conrerence at Batrti- more.—As ‘this assembly sits with closed doors, we | are not able to giwe any account of its proceedings. The slavery question is understood to be a topic ef very animated discussion.

} |

Discovery or Lirnocrapuic Stone r’Canapda.— Mr. Logan,:the geologist, at present employed in a geological survey in Canada, has made a discovery, says the Montreal Gazette, which promises to be of | great importance. He has found near Lake Simcoe | reat beds of lithographic stone—namely, that used '

jn thedithographic art for taking the drawings, and producing the impression on paper. So large is this | bed, that Mr. Logan has explored jit for sixty or | seventy miles! Hitherto, ‘(Germany has been ‘the | «ole-source from which the world has been supplied with this:vdluable article.

Srinitvar Conrroversy.—The Rev, ‘T. T. Hunt has challenged the grog sellers af Bastan to show | cause at FP esouil Hall th is evening, why the trade is not immoral.—N, Y. News "Marek id

leat us, andthe nation to true repentance—the repentance | which consists in an actual turning from yn ye of wrong

and doing that which is right in the sight of the Lord. Let it afflict us when we survey the desolations of Zion;

when we see how few come up to her solemn feasts ; when we consider how little she possesses.of the self-denying spirit of her Master and Lord; and when we behold, every where, the love of pleasure and the lust of gain absorbing so much.of the energies demanded for the high and holy purpose of minister- ing to human want, and mitigating human wo.

And with eur confessions of sin let there be -mingled the charities of ithe gospel—drawing out our hearts in compassion for the ignorant, and degraded, sympathy for the oppressed, and efforts for the highest good or ali, And let us consider that eur oblations will be vain, and even a multitude of sacrifices to no purpose, unless we put away the evil of our doings, cease to do evil and learn to do well. Let the first be such as God has chosen—to loose the bands of wickedness, undo the hea-

vy burdens and break every voke; to deal our bread to the hungry, bring into our houses the poor that are cast out, and hide not ourselves from our own flesh, so that our light may break forth as the morning, our health spring forth speedily, our righteousness go before us, and the glary of the Lord be- come our reward.

And. finally, let us pray that, through the influence of the Divine Spirit, efficacy may be given to truth—pure and unde- filed religion he revived—men, every where, be recigimed from sin, and the world be brought back to its allegiance to Heaven, and elevated ta ‘the dignity and blessedness af cammunian with its-Creator and Lord.

Given usder my hand at Middlebury this fifteenth day .of March, ip the year of cur Lord pne thousand eight hundred -_ forty-five. and of the: Independence ofthe United Stajes

sixty -njnth, \WILLIGM SLADE.

By the Governor, Gro. H. Braman, Set’y,

let us ask God to search us, and to search this nation; to show | and point them to their heavenly home.

J.C. Baupwin. in Cavendish, in Feb., Mr. James Ashton Hall, Esq.,

formerly ‘Principal of W..8. and M. Academy, at Unity, NN. H. Mr. Hali was a voung man of great moral worth, he was beloved and respected by all who knew him, and his less will he deeply felt. He was a member of the Bar of Windsor County and possessed talents and ac- quirement well fitting hum -for his profession. May the consalations.of the ‘Gospel, be realized by those who mourn at the loss of such an amiable friend and asso- ciate. W. S.

UGAR WANTED-—At this office in payment for pa- pers, 37ef

| HATS! HATS!! HATS!!! | BURNHAM & VAIL

AVE just received the SPRING S!'YLE OF HATS | 'The dimensions are as follows ;

73-8 inches high; 3-4 inches yeoman; 1-4 inches aval an | tip; 3 8 inches bell, : | Our Hats consist of Beaver, Nutra, Black and White Brush, | Cassimere Plain Russia, Superior Short Nap of Prussian Mole | Skins, Musk do., Coneg, Wool Hats. Boston and New York Hats of the hest.quajity and.latest style.

(CP Merchants furnished at wholesale as cheap as they ca purchase in New:York or Boston.

Also. Caps,Stocks,Gloves, Suspenders, Collars, Bosoms. &c. Mareh @7th, $845. 37:60

IBERATION..—This may certify that i have given, my son Harvey Bicknell, his time during the

remainder ef ee | shall ~~ engi vanydebig is contracting afte; this "

Per Eaone Town, Witness, . JOHN BICKENELL. Stowe, Feb. 27, 1845, STS

WATCHMAN AND REPOSITORY. ———ELEEEEEEeEEEEEEeEeEeeeeeee

Poetry. ne

The Tree of Love.

BY MRS. LIDIA H. SIGOURNEY.

Fast by the dear, domestic bower,

There sprang a tree of healing power; Its leaflets, damp with gentle rain,

Could charm or quell the pang of pain;

And ’neath its shade a maiden grew,

She shared its fruit, she drank its dew;

And by her side a youth was seen, With glance of love and noble mien— At twilight hour a favored guest,

Her trembling hand he warmly pressed; At length, with guileless heart and free,

She said, ‘*I’ll plant that tree for thee.’’

Her little brother climbed her knee— ** You must not go away from me; The nightly prayer with me you say,

And soothe me when I’m tired of play;’’ Her sister’s eye with tears was dim, She said, ‘* I’! plant that tree for him.’’

** Its roots are deep,’’ the mother said, ** Beyond the darkling grave they spread.’’

“*Thy hand is weak,’’ the father cried,

** Too young thou art to be a bride;”’

Serene she spake, ‘*I look above

For sirength to plant the tree of love.’’

Before the holy priest she stood, Her fair cheek dyed with rushing blood; And as with hands to heaven displayed,

Strong vows upon her soul he laid, Her heaving breast, like fluttering bird,

Her snowy mantle wildly stirred. i

But when the hallowed cirque of gold Of deathless love the promise told, Mysterious strength her spirit felt,

And at the altar’s foot she knelt— ** My God—my God—I’ll cling to thee,

And plant for him that blessed tree.’’

Around their home its branches spread,

Its buds she nursed, its roots she fed;

ble, or ingenious, allowing they were then in exis- tence, dared to enlighten the world with their knowl- edge or skill? How much in those days would have been worth the life of Maelzel, the inventor of the automaton chess-player? Or, indeed, how long would it have been ere that benefactor of the human race, the inventer of locofoco matches, would have been burnt at the stake, and the pile lighted possibly by his own invention?

In connection with this, I will relate an anecdote I once heard in Europe. An Englishman of wealth | some few years since was travelling in Turkey—it | was about the time the phosphorus matches first | came into use—you may recollect the little red cases | imported trom France at that time, with a small glass bottle in one end, and the matches in the other. ‘The fireman which he bad obtained from the Sultan | for his safe conduct, he had lost; and, arriving at | one of the border towns, he was carried with his | servants and effects before the Aga, as aspy of the | Russians. Vain were his assertions, bis pleadings, threats, or proffered bribes: to prison he must go, | untill orders from Constantinople could be received, |

| and his effects were left in possession of the Aga and his officers.

Curiosity, though not one of the greatest attributes | | of a ‘Tnrk, in this case became a duty, his portman- | | teau and trunk were submitted to the ransacking of | the phlegmatic Turks. An Englishman generally consults his comfort, and this one, knowing how little of that artical heshould find in the land he was visiting, | had supplied himself with all the articles of necessity | or luxury he could conveniently carry with him. A small lamp, chafling-dish, a tea-pot, knife and fork, |

| Spoon, silver tumbler, brushes for the head, teeth and | flesh, razors, soap, wax tapers, and other sundries, |

with shirts, dickeys, bosoms, hosiery, boots, shoes j and night-caps, were thrown in admirable disorder before the assembled divan, ‘These articles were not unknown, at least to many of the Mussubmen present—but a small tin case, opening with a spring, attracted the attention of all; in it, in six little com- |

| partments, were six red paper boxes, one of which was placed in the hands of the Aga for examination. The top was removed, and a number of little sticks, their ends covered with a composition, met his eye —ua conversation ensued as for what purpose they could be used—at last he discovered another end to the box, which being opened, a vial sealed also with red, was disclosed. |

A Turk is no fool, and finding both bottle and | sticks in the same box, he very naturally coneluded | they had something to do with each other; he ac- cordingly, as a Christian would have done, inserted | the end of the stick into the uncorked vial. A light hissing noise was heard, the stick was suddenly |

Though flaunting crowds, with giddy look,

Of toil so meek slight notice took,

Yet hovering angels marked with pride

The green tree of the blessd bride.

Miscellany.

Superstition of past Ages. A TALE OF THE TURKS.

In no particular is the difference between the dark | ages and the present more clearly shown, than by the | superstition of the former. Now, education, by de-| veloping the common sense of man, has dispelled the | misty vapor that bigotry threw over his mind ; and | it would require the stolidity of an idiot to believe at | the present time, what in years gone by it would | have been the height of heterodoxy to doubt. For- | merly, a man who was endowed with genius and | knowledge was considered a magician. Dr. Botolo | was seized by the Inquisition in the sixteenth centu- | ry, for having cured a nobleman of the gout—and | the learned Friar Bacon was suspected, even by wise | ecclesiastics, of having dealings with the devil. Dis- | eases were imputed to fascination, and hundreds of | poor wretches were dragged to the stake for being | accessory to them. Mereatus, physician to King) Philip If. of Spain, relates that be had seen a very | beautiful woman break a steel mirror to pieces, and | blast some trees with a glance of her eye. Josephus | relates that he saw a Jew, named Eleasor, draw the | devil out of an old woman’s nose, by the application |

withdrawn, and in flames!—“ Avian ip Avian!” | ' burst from the thunder-struck Aga—the box was | | dashed from his hand, and springing trom his carpet, | he rushed, togther with the crowd, from the room | and the house. When their affright was somewhat abated, since |

they found no tremendous consequences had imme- | diately ensued, a consultation was held—but for a | long time no one would venture near the haunted room. Mustering courage, however, with pistols cocked, ataghans in hand, led by their chief, the | officers marched in battle array to the dreadful apart- | ment, expecting, no doubt, to see ove of the fabled | genii they had read of in the Arabian tales. An awful silence ensued—the curtain was drawn, and on the floor, where it was thrown by the Aga, lay the terrible machine. ‘I'he Imaum was sent for, and amid prayers, and in a solemn procession, guarded with Janissaries on both sides, the “infernal ma-| chine,” with its companions, fixed on forked poles, | was carried to the side of the river, and sunk be- neath its surface. The Englishman was soon after released ; but to

this day, says my informant, the Turks have not for- gotten the Demon of the Giaour.—New Mirror.

The Stranger’s Guide. | BY REV. HENRY BACON, |

A stranger always needs a guide to keep him from | trouble, and enable him in the best manner to enjoy life and improve his time. The Bard of Israel re- flected thus when he confessed and prayed—‘‘I am

of Solomon’s seal to it, in presence of the Emperor | a stranger in the earth ; bide not thy commandment | Vespasian. Dr. Mynsight is said to have cured | from me.” And we are all strangers in the earth. many bewitched persons with a plaster of assafcetida, | Little does the wisest know the intricate passages of Some thought the evil spirit might consider such an | mortal life, and continually are they taken in their application as an insult, and run off in a passion— own craftiness. We need a guide. We need su- others very sagely observed, that as such spirits were | perior wisdom to point out to us the course we supposed to have eyes and ears, they might have! should pursue. We need to consider our ways very | noses, tuo. | frequently, lest we go astray. The commandments

Even Luther, the great reformer, attributed thun-| are our guide, and our safety lies in their not being der and meteors to the devil. Such were a few of | hid from us. ‘They are often hid—their reasonable- the superstitious notions and fears by which a great ness is veiled by the ‘corruptions that are in the majority of the human race were enslaved. Can it | world through evil desire.” We need to pray earn- we wondered at that so few of the learned, or sensi-| estly that all fleshy veils may be riven, and that we

oem Ss ealaeielneieeleneniiiamiiaemmeeaaedeniaimiamemieiaamimieeieenmeeraimememmmnieeeate

may be of those who fear the Lord aad have there-. by the perfection of wisdom to ‘‘ walk wisely ina perfect way.”

If we are strangers in the earth, then earth is not certainly our home. Our spirits came from God,,. and fora while are tabernacled here. The taber- nacle was for the pilgrims to the promised land ; the temple was for the residents in che holy state ; and let us keep this ever in mind as we think of our spirit’s mortal tabernacle, heavenly temple. While we are pilgrims, let us keep in view the end of our journey—the city we seek, and by taking the com- mandments for our guide, hold fast to our integrity wherever we pause to labor, to engage in festivity, or mingle in with the various circles of society. Then when left alone—as alone we must die—the retrospect will be pleasing, and we shall ‘* go home” in peace.—Christian Freeman.

Domestic Happiness. Domestic happiness may be called happiness of

the heart; while successful ambition, to enjoy the applause of the world, is that of the head. Every well regulated mind, which looks to home as the well-spring of joys which gush forth and invite the taste—which satisfy, but never cloy, will cultivate this garden of human affections. The mind which is impelled by ambitious views, gradually becomes a

‘stranger to the enrufiled current of domestic joys ;. his bark is launched upon a@ sen troubled by storms, which compel him to be on deck all the time, and

' the cabin is closed to his vision, while he is sustain- ed only by the hope of reaching at length the goal of

| his desires, and mooring safely in the haven of peace. But he is like the miser, who barters the treasures of the heart for the gold which moth and rust do ecor- rupt. He is continually counting his sordid gains.

| for whieh he bas sacrificed the joys of existence, and hoarding up, for a future day of separation, those treasures which perish iv the using- ‘The treasures of the heart are not allied with those which swell the pomp and pageantry of the pablic hour; they are cultivated in privacy—they are yielded sponta- neously to the smile of affection ; while those who

| follow the promptings of ambition, are, if not doom- ed to disappointment, compelied to delve for their treasure, which when acquired is (especially when

| the tempest of life visit us) unable to purchase any thing but barren misery,

Dvuevciine.—We are happy to see such remarks as

the following in a Southern paper. They are taken

; from the Columbus (Ga.) Times of the 5th instant: We are happy to be able to state that the affair of

honor, between Gen. J. W. A. Sanford, and Col, A. H. Kenan, both of Milledgeville, which was the top- ic of general conversation and excitement during the past week, has been amicably and honorably adjust-

| ed, through the intervention of a mutual friend. The feeling of this community was strongly and

decidedly against the combat, and we note the feel- ;ing so generally expressed, as an evidence that the public taste for this mode of settling disputes, is un- dergoing a wholesome change. Public opinion is at the root of the evil. Few men fight from motives of hatred or vengeance. Nine-tenths of these per- sonal conflicts take place for the sake of reputation, and because cnstom imposes the necessity, as a con- dition of character and standing in the world.

If the public voice were heard generally, as it has been here, in the late instance, and if men of tried reputation and influence would come forward, as was done here, the namber of these deadly rencon- ters, would be greatly diminished. But us long as public opinion kicks the refuser of a challenge, and

'gibbets him who accepts and kills his opponent: it must be confessed that the man who is involved in a quarrel is ina very awkward perdicament. The re-

| sult is, that most men prefer to risk the bullet and the law, to the slow moving finger of public scorn.

Laurels grow best in grave yards.

THE UNIVERSALIST WATCHMAN | AND CHRISTIAN REPOSITORY.

PP PALA AAA

PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY MORNING,

MAIN AND BARRE STREETS, BY

ELI BALLOU.

TeRrms.—To Mail and Office Subscribers, $1,50 per annum, payable in advance or within three months, invariably. No subscription, received for sss than one year, except the money be paid on subscribing. No paper, discontinued untill all ar- rearages are paid except atthe discretion of the publisher. ap All Communications concerning the paper must be ad-

dressed to the Editer at Montpelier, Vt. and those forwarded by Mail must be post Paip. (> Any person sending us six new subscribers and ¢9,00,

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by stage or carrier will be expected to pay for transportation.

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