your destruction cometh as a whirlwind; when distress and anguish cometh upon you; then shall they call upon me, but I will not answer, they shall seek me early, but they shall not find me: For that they hated knowledge, and did not choose the fear of the Lord; they would none of my counsel: they despised all my reproof. Therefore shall they eat of the fruit of their own way, and be filled with their own devices." All these facts considered collectively-that the means of conversion after being repeatedly used, produce little, or no effect-that the heart becomes insensible to serious impressions under the misimprovement of great light and knowledge -that a long series of disregarded judgments and mercies are succeeded by judicial blindness and hardness of heart,-render it sufficiently evident that those who remain impenitent, after receiving such great blessings must be left in a hopeless condition. For what hope remains of the conversion of those, who can be neither allured nor alarmed by the momentous truths of the gospel? We may speak of "everlasting burnings," but no fears are excited; we may describe the blessings of redeeming grace, but the angel-voice of mercy no longer penetrates the ear; judgments and mercies may be poured down like the showers of heaven, but the callous heart remains unmoved. Alas for thee, hardened sinner! what hope-if the solemn appeal can reach thy conscience "seared as with a hot iron,"-what hope remains of thy salvation? The inexplorable riches of grace may be magnified in your redemption-a sovereign arm may descend from heaven to pluck you at the "eleventh hour,"like a "brand from the burning;" but how small is the probability-How few of your unhappy number become subjects of the kingdom of grace. So far as the human eye can discover, an impenetrable gloom rests upon your prospects. Few and faint are the rays of hope that fall upon the dark cloud. Already you seem to be numbered with the inhabitants of Chorazin and Bethsaida; it shall be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon at the day of judgment than for you. a To the young our subject applies with peculiar interest. You are not yet hardened beyond hope. Your ears still listen to the glad tidings of salvation. Your eyes still moisten at the relation of Saviour's sufferings for guilty man. You have not yet ceased to be alarmed by the opening grave, or the signal exhibitions of an over-ruling Providence. You have not yet closed your ears against the voice of pious counsel, nor forsaken the sanctuary of God. But if you remain impenitent under the great variety of blessings with which indulgent heaven has distinguished you, if you resist the clear convictions of duty, and the admonitions of conscience, and disregard the attractive voice of wisdom, uttering her cry in the streets; your hearts may become hard like the "adamant stone;" your feet may turn aside from the paths of rectitude, to the labyrinth of infidelity; you may forsake the house of God, and the gate of heaven;" your pious friends may leave you in the bitterness of despair; angels, who have long waited to sing a new song at the tidings of your repentance, may drop the tear of pity from heaven, the compassionate Saviour looking down from the throne of mercy, may say: "If thou hadst known, even thou, in this thy day, the things that belong to thy peace; but now they are hid from thine eyes." Beware then how you remain impenitent under the blessings of light and knowledge. If you delay the work of repentance till a more convenient opportunity, your hopes may be lost in the un same fondness for a garden and flowers may be traced in the lowest artisans and cottagers; and when they are denied the luxury of a garden, they will make a garden of their houses, and fill every window with flowers, and plants. The garden which we were now survey THERE is a family at Winson Green, just in the vicinity of B―m, which I have occasionally seen; and as I consider them, in their manners and style of living, was enclosed with a welling, a very good specimen of those in the middle walks of life, I will give you an account of a late visit there, and will mingle character and description with incident. At the close of a fine day, a young Bostonian and myself, conducted by a son of the family, called at their cottage. By cottage, you will not understand me to mean a one-story, straw-thatched building, half hid in woodbine, but a neat two story brick mansion, covered with slate. We paused a few moments, in the front garden, to look at its arrangement. I have often had occasion to admire the taste, which Englishmen of this class exhibit in faying out and decorating their gardens and pleasure grounds. Whenever they fix upon a spot, and call it "home," they collect about it every little comfort and elegance that their means will admit. A garden seems to be a primary object in their rural economy; and even when their means are scanty, and they are necessarily confined to a narrow spot of ground, they contrive to throw over that spot, a thousand beauties. This taste, I conceive, cannot be too highly commended. It is not less elegant in itself, than it is favourable to purity of manners. The trimmed hawthorn hedge, and two gravelled walks led up each side of a close-shaven, oval grass plat, to the front door. Trees of various kinds mingled with shrubbery skirted the edges, and gave to the centre a charming aspect of pensive retirement, and rural quietness. The lawn, by the use of a cast iron roller, and frequent shaving, had become extremely smooth, and was not only cheering to the eye, from its vivid green, but pleasant and soft as down to the foot. From the front garden we were conducted through a gate at one corner of the house, into the fruit and flower garden. This was somewhat larger than the other. Like that, it was enclosed with a hawthorn hedge, which, by constant trimming and good management had become so closely interwoven and matted together, as to form as effectual a barrier against the intrusion of cattle or the prying curiosity of man, as a stone or brick wallitself. The hedge, under the hand of a skilful gardener, can be made to assume the most fantastic shapes. This was so close, that neither the hand nor the eye could penetrate it; and clothed as it then was, in the brightest green, it far surpassed in beauty, any fence or railing, and was more in harmony with the scene around. As might be expected, we found ourselves very pleasantly entertained, in strolling over this enclosure. Flowers of all hues, and every fragrance, spread their charms before us, and together with the fine fruits which abounded in it, our senses were variously regaled. At the termination of the walks was some object to call and divert the attention-a summer-house, an arbour, or a rustic seat. In the centre a sun-dial marked the wane of time; and at the foot of the garden, flowed a small stream, which formed several cascades, and finally passed off with a rippling sound, and was lost to the eye under an arbour. There was here nothing extravagant, and nothing more than what most of our farmers and tradesmen might command, with a very little attention and trifling The fruit-trees and plants would afford them amusement in their leisure hours, as well as reward them with their products; and the cultivation of flowers would give their daughters a refined and healthy employment. From this little Elysium we were called to the tea-table. We now first passed compliments with Mrs. M, the mother of the family, and having found seats, tea was brought in. Tea in this country is taken sans ceremony, and is soon over. Since we are in the house, allow me to say something of the interior. This is more exclusively the female department, and I am happy to remark, that the same neatness and taste which characterized the gardens and grounds, were seen here. The houses of this class of English the forges of Sheffield, and the founderies of Birmingham, each yield their articles to grace an English cottage of this stamp. We have the same articles with us, but they are generally of an inferior quality, and seldom arranged with so much reference to effect. The windows, with the aid of curtains and blinds, become the most ornamental part of the house. Though they are "few and far between" on account of the heavy taxes to which they are subject, they appear elegant, whether seen from within or without. The fire-places also, which with us are apt to be black and sooty, exhibit here a very different aspect. They are made of cast iron, with polished grates. The fenders, and fire irons are usually of polished steel. The mantel-piece is always stored with a choice collection of shells, crystallizations, spar beautifully modelled into urns, vases, and the like. Here were shown several elegant paper baskets covered with rice, which were wrought by the daughters. These things, trifling in themselves, yet set off a room, and speak much in praise of the female inmates. From the tea-table we were led to a summer-house in a corner of the garden. While we were here enjoying a fine evening, a declining sun which added new beauties to fields and trees, and a cool breeze which was loaded with the fragrance of many flowers, Mr. M— and a son-in-law of his, joined us. Mr. M is an extensive buttonmaker. He rides into town every morning in his pony-gig, pursues his business all day with industry, economy, and system; and at night returns to the bosom and enjoyment of his family. He has an increasing trade to America, and is partial to Americans, but amidst his eulogies of the daughter, it is easy to discover that he secretly thinks better of the mother. He gave us a hearty welcome. At nine o'clock we were summoned to the supper table. Here, the interesting daughters of the family who had returned from abroad, joined us. The refreshments were liberal. An English supper, you must know, though not exactly Roman, is yet rather luxurious. After the usual accompaniment of music, both vocal and instrumental, we took leave of our courteous and hospitable hosts. Such is a specimen of English taste and manners in the middling ranks of society. Families of this description are noted for neatness, hospitality, order, and economy; and when adorned and recommended by probity and religion, few spots on earth can be compared with an English fireside, and household circle. In the course of my jour neyings, I have observed that the English ladies are much in the habit of riding on horseback. The usual dress is a blue cloth great coat, fitting close about the neck, and falling nearly to the ground. On the head they wear a man's black beaver, and a black vail. Around the neck, they have a plain starched collar that comes up to the ears, and nearly meets at the chin, and over this a fancy cravat with a stiffner, tied in true dandy style. Thus equipped,they mount a horse, take the reins in one hand, and a whip in the other, and entirely undaunted, prance off with much grace. This exercise contributes greatly to their health, nor is it unfavourable to their beauty. A ride of a few miles tinges their full round cheeks with a fine colour, and their locks, which at starting are partially obscured, become loosened by the motion of the horse, and fall in graceful ringlets that wave as they bound through the air. The summers here are unquestionably more congenial to the general health of man than our own. They are also more pleasant; but the autumn and winter, if I may judge from the specimen we have already had, cannot be compared with ours, at least in pleasantness. The dull weather which now prevails, (Nov. 2d,) I am told, continues nearly the same through the winter-either dripping rain, or a heavy, damp, disagreeable atmosphere, with not much frost, snow, or ice. The softness of an American autumn is unknown here; and though the English winter is less cold than our own, I would not for this, exchange our clear atmosphere, unclouded sky and sharp frosty mornings. I know not that the weather of this season here is particularly prejudicial to health. In general, Englishmen look more healthy and robust than Americans. They are often corpulent even to deformity-have broad shoulders, large features, full cheeks, and if I may here anticipate an item in their character, bear marks of high living, and excess in wine. It would scarcely fail of being serviceable to some of our American farmers to visit this country, as well with a view to take lessons in agriculture, as to learn the important virtue of contentment. Living in a perfectly free country, almost exempted from taxes, in which every thing is cheap, and being lords of the soil that they cultivate, they are too insensible of their enviable condition. Here, you know, the land is owned principally by the nobility, who let it out in small lots to the farmers, at enormous rents. What these pay annually would entitle them to the fee simple with drag on year after year, till old age overtakes them, and puts a stop to their labours, and at the same time increases their wants. They must then depend upon their children for support, or become paupers. Good farmers they become from necessity. Unless they make the most from their land, it will not yield enough to pay the rents. As, however, they are liable at any moment to be dismissed from the soil, they have not the same motives with our farmers to attempt extensive and permanent improvements. Their necessities create a peculiar personal diligence and skill, and they are, on the whole, a people remarkably well fitted for the condition in which they are placed. Notwithstanding the precarious tenure with which they hold their lands, if they are punctual in paying their rents, or have kind landlords, it is not uncommon for father and son to fill the same place successively. The English are barbarous in their amusements; at least this is the fact with certain descriptions of that people. Yesterday a boxing match took place eighteen or twenty miles from this town. (Birmingham.) As I did not go, and probably shall never see any thing of the kind, I have received the following account from an acquaintance who was present. Though you are not unapprised of this disgraceful practice, I may be able to state several particulars that may give you a more impressive idea of it, than perhaps you have yet had. The day was cold, rainy and blustering; but notwithstanding this circumstance, about 20,000 persons were present to witness the wicked sport. A stage about twenty-four feet square, six feet high, and surrounded with a railing, was erected on the race ground for the convenience of the combatants; near this was a lower stage on which sat the umpires. 1826. No. 5. 31 About one o'clock the prize fighters made their appearance on the stage, and were hailed with loud cheers by the assembled crowd. They stripped to the naked skin, with the exception of drawers. shook hands in token of friendship, and then fell to beating each other with all their might. The excitement of the refined spectators was extremely great, and bets ran high. When either combatant gained the advantage of the other, by a dexterous movement or knock-down blow, he was cheered by his friends, and the other was encouraged by the opposite party to fight on. Their well aimed blows were not without effect. In a few minutes the left eye of one was closed, and the blood, or claret as they term it, flowed from the faces of both. The stake in contest was 1,000 guineas; both were strong, athletic men, and had been training for the occasion for many months; their honour too was committed, and neither felt disposed to yield to the other. In a short time, their faces were beat out of human shape, and blood poured profusely from their mouths and nostrils. A tre mendous blow from one or the other would now and then stretch his opponent at full length on the stage. The rules of the game are such that when one is down, the other is not allowed to strike him, but must give him time to recover his feet. They had fought nineteen minutes and were both nearly exhausted, and began to reel about the stage, when a lucky blow (so called) decided the battle. Both fell;-one was able to rise and claim the victory-the other lay senseless at his feet, and was finally carried off by his friends. The news of the victory was carried to Windsor, 86 miles, in five hours. and five minutes! Horse-racing, bull-baiting, cock-fighting, shooting, and fishing, are amusements of which the English are very fond, and to indulge in them, they spare |