ignorance than design. Some will say, fasting is a returning back to ordinances, and so making void the doctrine of justification by faith. Others, that it is exhibiting a feature of the latter days, as predicted by St. Paul, commanding to abstain from meats" (1 Tim. iv. 3). Such arguments, however, are easily set aside. It is not the using of the ordinance, but the trusting in it, that excludes the actiou of faith; and he who cannot practise self-denial without exalting it in the place of faith had better not fast at all. But, on the other hand, he whose faith is so barren as to produce no works stands on fearful ground, and is yet dead in the sight of God;" for as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead also" (James, ii. 26).

For the information of those who class us with the Papists, I would merely say, the feature of the latter days, as foretold us by St. Paul, consists not in the abstaining, but in the commanding to abstain; as also in the preceding context, "forbidding to marry," the evil lies not in the celibacy itself, but the enforcement of it; for if St. Paul intended to point out, as signs of Anti-Christ, self-denial and the unmarried state, he strangely contradicts himself, and pulls down with one hand what with the other he builds up, when he strongly advocates the one (1 Cor. vii. 7) and points to the other (2 Cor. vi. 5) as no mean trophy of his Christian valour. Here, then, the Church of England stands forth in unrivalled beauty; for while Rome condemns the non-observance of a fast-day as deadly sin, and, according to the Apostle's prophecy, commands to abstain from meats, she, on the contrary, leaves it with the conscience of her communicant. But, alas! alas! that men basking in the sunshine of Gospel truth should close their eyes to the precepts of their Bible, and their ears to the admonitions of their Church, and tamely allow corrupted Rome to boast sole possession of a gem so rare-one that has ever adorned the Catholic Church in her most pristine purity, and which she in reality does not possess.

Much more might be said in recommendation of this godly practice, but space will not permit. It is a subject but little thought of, and still less practised, yet it affords the consistent Churchman no small consolation to know that he stands not unsupported: the Church, as ever, points to duty, although negligence and innovation have well nigh obscured the characters; and those who are giving the subject their serious attention, I would refer to the Homily on Fasting.

Wouldst thou, then, reader, experience that unfeigned penitence and godly sorrow for sin thou so often sighest for?-Wouldst thou enjoy that peaceful serenity and indifference to this world thou so eagerly wishest for? Wouldst thou maintain a closer walk with God, and possess a more lively faith in his mercy, through Christ our Lord? then fast and pray. Your Bible advocates the duty;-your Church enjoins it, the holy Apostles practised it,-good men throughout all ages have observed it, many of your brethren are now observing it; and may the Lord "who for our sake did fast forty days and forty nights," give us grace to use such abstinence, that, our flesh being subdued to the spirit, we may ever obey his godly motions in righteousness and true holiness, to his honour and glory, who liveth and reigneth with the Father and the Holy Ghost, one God, world without end-AMEN.

THOUGHTS SUGGESTED BY A CANDLE.

The day's occupation had drawn to a close. Night had spread his dark mantle over this portion of the globe; and hundreds, doubtless, lay dormant in sweet repose. Many, perhaps from sickness or some other cause, lay on a restless couch-the night a terror to them. Some were robbed of the benefits of sleep by foul dreams; or, as is too often the case at this season of the year, by excess of some kind. The time to retire to rest had arrived; the night-watch duty had been gone through; a pleasure it had been to (6 commune with the Lord in my chamber," and to be "still," in a manner which the bustle of daylight, and the necessary business of the world, in a great measure forbid; and my mind was calmed by pleasant musings, and elevated with holy thoughts as I laid my head on my pillow, after having blown out my CANDLE.

I watched it; the room which before was fairly illumined by its light, was at once darkened-all was silent-I was alone-not a breath was heard, not a whisper,-no faint sigh was heaved. Suddenly a flash of light proceeds from the unquenched wick, and sheds a light throughout the whole apartment; but it was only momentary, and then a thick gloom ensued.

The occurrences of every-day life may often be turned to the good of our immortal souls, and each simple incident made to bear favourably on ourselves. The mind thus occupied need little fear the machinations of Satan; for Satan's best friend, or rather surest dupe, is an empty and unemployed mind; and his most dreaded foe, and surest conqueror-he whose every thought, as well as deed, is exercised in the right way.

And how aptly does this little incident resemble the mortal life! Man lives on just as the candle burns; and sets an example for good or for evil, within the entire reach of his influence, just as the whole room was lighted by the candle. Thus he continues, answerable to his God who lets him live-responsible to his maker who called him into existence, and at whose pleasure that existence at once terminates or is prolonged-equally as the burning of the candle depends on the will of him who uses it. As the candle shines best in the dark, so the Christian man's loveliest look is, when surrounded, as he is, by the black influences of this world of sinhe is a light set on a hill which cannot be hid." As the taper takes its place in the midnight watch, so should the Christian terminate each day in communion with his God, and speak peace to his soul in midnight meditations,

But man is suddenly taken down; sickness overtakes him, a partial gloom surrounds his presence, as the room is darkened by the blown-out light. At all ages we are cut off, at all lengths the candle is blown-out. At each age is the same result-a deadness, a darkness-the disease continues, and we become as useless as the blown-out taper. Then an appearance for the better takes place; but it is only the sad presage of a sadder doom,-only a momentary flash before a lengthened gloom,-a" sunblast before the shower," (alas! how many sick chambers can witness to the truth of this)-man is suddenly all at once cut down; the last struggle on account of his sin comes on; the last enemy takes his stand against us; the last conflict begins, continues and (too true) ends ;-we yield, and an impenetrable and unknown gloom follows!

Sometimes the candle is made to go out all at once; a breath extinguishes

it. Sometimes (oh! often) man is suddenly called to appear before his Maker. At other times the taper wick but gradually goes out, the flame as it were unwilling to be extinguished; so disease gradually undermines the constitution of the apparently robust, but in the end succeeds; the delicate or consumptive state of health may continue for a while, but in time the end arrives. Or, it may be, the wick is let to remain until it has entirely consumed the light-giving substance, the tallow that sustains the flame, to be replaced by another: so, as old age arrives, it brings with it the surer and more certain confidence that our end approaches, and that ere long our station will be filled, and our duties performed by another. In all, however, is the same end, and that emphatically

THE end.

In the midst of these cogitations, and filled with such thoughts, I fell asleep.

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Oh! how should these things remind us of the purpose for which we were put into this world-to serve God acceptably, and to prepare ourselves for His presence when called to appear before him. Especially at this season of the year, when the stripped trees, and the fallen and decaying leaves we tread on, should remind us that to our existence also there must be an end, and a decay to our bodies; and each time we use, extinguish, or even top" a candle, it should teach us to trust in that Saviour whose birth we at this time commemorate; and show ourselves to be trusting, by a constant obedience to His holy commands, and a continual watching for "His second coming in His glorious Majesty to judge both the quick and the dead," by " casting off the works of darkness," and praying God to put upon us the armour of light" now, we may in that great day be found "acceptable in His sight." December, 1842.

that

X.

LUCY GRAHAM.*

Ir was at a late hour, on a gloomy afternoon, in the month of November, when I was urging my wearied horse along one of those rough and broken roads that intersect the vast forests of our western states, and require at times the most practised eye to trace them through the deep covering of fallen leaves that overspread the ground.-I was beginning to fear, lest the fastcoming shades of evening would overtake me, before I could meet with any shelter, for myself and my horse, from the piercing blast that whistled through the withered foliage, bringing with it a few scattered flakes of snow, which made me by no means averse to the idea of reposing by a comfortable fireside, if such could be found. My poor horse, too, had carried me many a weary mile that day, and his slackened and laboured pace showed his fatigue.

Tall and majestic trees reared their heads around me, looking as if centuries might have passed over them, while the seared and brittle foliage still clung tenaciously to the branches. Occasionally, either near or at a distance, might be heard, some giant oak or sycamore, falling to the ground with a sound that re-echoed like thunder, and broke the death-like stillness which otherwise pervaded the scene. The total absence of evergreens, in some of the western

* [This instructive and affecting story forms one of the publications of the American Protestant Episcopal Tract Society. We reprint it from The Church, an excellent paper published at Toronto, Upper Canada. ]

forests, imparts to them a desolation, peculiarly striking to any one accustomed to the profusion of pine, hemlock and laurel, which adorns those of the eastern states, and prevents the utter dreariness of aspect which vegetation of all other kinds assumes during the winter months. At intervals, my route lay through spaces where the rude attempts at clearing showed that the hand of man had penetrated there, though the blackened stumps and the girdled trunks, which stretched their few bare and lifeless branches upwards, but added to the gloomy character of the scene.

It was on emerging into one of these openings, which bore marks of the recent labours of the woodcutter, that, to my inexpressible relief, I perceived, not far distant, a twinkling light, though the twilight was too far advanced to allow me to perceive whence it proceeded. Soon, however, I had arrived at the spot, which was a log cabin, better constructed than was usual at that time, and possessing the luxury of two glazed windows, through one of which shone the light that had gladdened my eyes. I dismounted, and, fastening my horse, advanced to reconnoitre before proceeding to ask admittance to the humble dwelling. The small four-paned window, through which I made my inspection, was not, as usual, clouded with smoke and dust, and hung with cobwebs, but brightly polished with the hand of neatness. The scene within corresponded to what this trifling circumstance had made me expect. A cheerful fire burned on the neatly swept hearth, and illuminated the white walls far more than the single candle that stood on a table before it. Beside the latter, sat a young female, whose head was bent in earnest attention over a large open volume, which, from its appearance, I conjectured to be the Holy Scriptures. I waited no longer, and gently tapped at the door, which was immediately opened by the girl I had seen, who, though evidently surprised to see me, received me with a courteousness and propriety, that greatly prepossessed me in her favour. I informed her briefly who I was, and that I was travelling on horseback to, and being overtaken by night before reaching the village next in my route, asked the favour of being permitted to stretch myself on the floor of the hut until morning.

"My father will be home very shortly," she replied, “and I am certain will make you welcome to his fireside, and anything else we can offer you. Your horse, too, Sir," she added, "will need both food and shelter, and I will direct you where to find them."

I thanked the kind-hearted maiden for her offer, and having complied with it by placing the poor animal in a state of comfort, I returned to the house, and disencumbering myself of my travelling cloak, fur cap, and moccasins, I sat down by the genial blaze, with a thankful heart.

My companion, meanwhile, had seated herself on the opposite side of the fire, and maintained a modest silence. After a pause of a few moments, I commenced the conversation by enquiring the title of the book, which still lay upon the table before us, which I presumed she had been reading.

"It is the Bible, Sir," she said, with sparkling eyes.-" I am glad to hear it," I rejoined, " and I doubt not but you find it a delightful companion in this lonely spot."

It

"I do, indeed," she replied, feelingly, "a most blessed companion! cheers my solitary hours, and enables me to bear up under trials which would else have crushed me to the earth. Without it, I fear, I should have been a wretched, repining creature; but it has, I humbly trust, taught me better."

I raised my eyes to the youthful countenance of the speaker, to see if there was aught there that betokened the touch of sorrow. But the deep lines of care and grief had not been traced on her fair brow; though I fancied the expression of her gentle eye had in it more of meek resignation than was natural to it, and which is rarely seen on the countenance of one who has not tasted the bitter cup of suffering.

"And has this young creature," thought I," already begun to pass through the waters of affliction? I should like much to know the nature of her "distress."

The few sentences she had uttered convinced me that in the subject of religion I should find a common theme of interest, and I endeavoured to draw forth her opinions on that momentous topic. She gradually laid aside her reserve, and expressed herself with a purity and refinement of language and sentiment which altogether astonished me, and proved that her present lowly station was not the one in which she had been accustomed to move. Another bond of fellowship was added, on discovering that she was, "like myself, a member of the Protestant Episcopal Church, and devotedly attached to her holy and scriptural Liturgy. She told me that she considered the deprivation of the services of the Church her greatest discomfort in her present situation, adding, that for the three preceding years, since she left New England, she had not been able once to attend to them,

"But surely," I remarked, " you might conduct them at home; your father would, doubtless, read the service, and your nearest neighbours would unite with you."

She did not reply, and a painful expression passed over her countenance, and I observed her eyes fill with tears.

"Is there any obstacle, my Christian friend,” I enquired, soothingly, "to your making the attempt ?"

"I would do so with unspeakable pleasure, Sir," she said, recovering her composure, "but my father would not permit it. He does not think as I do on these subjects, and my duty, as a daughter, would prevent my opposing his wishes, except where it is absolutely necessary. But if you, Sir," she continued, with animation, "could have the goodness to remain here tomorrow, and propose to him to conduct the service yourself, I am certain he would not object, and I need not say how great a gratification it would be to me to hear it once more."

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"I regret exceedingly that my time will not allow of any delay," I answered, as my business is urgent, and I have been already detained beyond my expectations, by the state of the roads; but as I intend returning this way in the course of a few weeks, I will endeavour then to stop, and do as you desire." As my young hostess was beginning to return her thanks for this proposition, my ear was caught by the sound of approaching footsteps from without, at which she paused, and anxiously regarded the door. It was opened, and a tall weather-beaten man, apparently of some sixty years of age, entered, whom I immediately concluded to be the father, of whom she had spoken, before she introduced him as such. His countenance, though by no means devoid of intelligence, had an expression which caused me to shrink involuntarily from its possessor, as from one whose heart could scarcely be the abode of any gentle or kindly feelings. There was a look of stern recklessness and habitual irritability stamped there, notwithstanding that his manners exhibited some traces of having been once polished by refined society. Even if the daughter had not already intimated, I should not have failed to infer, that in him she could find but little sympathy; and her deportment, though respectful and attentive, showed that the genial current of filial affection had been in a great measure repressed by the forbidding character of the very being in whom one so gentle and yielding ought to have found tenderness to sooth and cherish her. Remembering, however, that it is the duty of a Christian to endeavour to please all men, that he may also do them good, I strove to overcome the sensation of repugnance that I felt towards this individual, and to engage him in conversation.

I discovered in him no deficiency, either of natural sense or of information, but a state of mind in bitter and determined hostility to gospel truth, which displayed itself on the first allusion which I ventured to make to this topic. There had been, it seemed to me, some aggravated disappointments or mortifications in his career, that had frozen his feelings into impenetrable selfishness, and turned all his heart to gall.

When God sends his chastening rod to humble and to soften the hard heart of the rebel, and it fails to produce this effect, it seems but to render it tenfold