"thousand times ten thousand and thousands of thousands" who minister in the skies. Or it may be otherwise; "The contrite sinner's voice, may fall only on the ear of Him who said, respecting Saul of Tarsus, "Behold he prayeth;" and, like the shepherd who rejoiced over the finding of the lost sheep, and the woman who rejoiced in laying her hand on the missing piece of silver, called their friends and neighbours together, saying unto them, "Rejoice with me;" so may the Lord of all gather his angelic friends around him, that they may joy with him over the repenting prodigal. But if the announcement on high be thus public, methinks there are other ears as well that drink in the gladness, other voices that swell the chorus,-other bosoms that pulsate with bliss-"the spirits of the just made perfect;" for while in the text only angels are spoken of, it would appear from verse 7th, that the intelligence takes a wider sweep, seeing "there is joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth." This angelic joy implies, Secondly, That conversion is an event of stupendous interest. There are some minds whose range of view is so contracted, that absolute trifles throw them into ecstasies, and form the staple gladness of their heaven. But the beings of whom we speak are not thus diminutive in the structure of their intellect. Their post of observation is not at the nadir of mind. Their perspicacious gaze is not tinged with any fantastic colouring. When they estimate an event, it is in the light of the throne. Their emotions correspond. These fall no lower,-they rise no higher, than the figure on the graduated scale of their luminous judgment demands. The sensibilities of their moral nature are excited in exact proportion as the intrinsic grandeur of the object strikes their mental vision. That, therefore, which interests such minds, that which issues in no mere ripple on angelic souls,-that which rolls more than tiny wavelets through their breasts, that which produces a springtide in their happy emotions, that which creates a swell in the ocean of their bliss, can be is, no trifle. It must be it is, an event of transcendent moment. Hence the intellectual degradation evinced by those who neglect, or who affect to compassionate, religious men. Such individuals-men of mind, giants in intellect, versed votaries of science though they may fancy themselvessurely do not pretend that their powers and attainments render them superior to Gabriel and his compeers in the judgment they form of an object of study. If they do, then "farewell to all their greatness;" if they do not, then out of their own mouth we condemn them, and we say, What avail all your mental laurels, if your understanding despises the theme which dilates the intellects of angels,-what infants must ye be in the purely, mentally grand! Moreover, how dire your insensibility if ye who boast of your philanthropic hearts can hear of an event which awakes a jubilee of joy among the finest natures, and hear of it without one emotion of delight-it may be with a look of scorn, and a sigh of contempt; for be ye well assured, that "there is joy in the presence of THE ANGELS of God over one sinner that repenteth." It is implied, Thirdly, That the repentance of even one-no matter what the circumstances under which he has become penitent-kindles this joy. "In the clear concave of a winter's sky, Ten thousand add, and twice ten thousand more, Then weigh the whole-one soul outweighs them all." The angels think so. They are aware that the original preciousness of one immortal spirit is not a whit diminished by the fact that in this world there are other souls equally valuable in their nature,-equally capacious in their longings,-equally imperishable in their duration. Each soul is of incalculable worth, and hence angelic beings do not repress their gladness, they do not obstruct the welling up of their delight until a considerable number of conscience-stricken prodigals are heard to resolve, "We will arise and go to our Father, and say, we have sinned." When, from the mighty hum of earth's eight hundred millions, there rises the music of one soul lifting up the voice and weeping,-of one heart breaking under a consciousness of sin,-of one poignant wail imploring "What must I do to be saved?" the joy of these spirits is at once created. It matters not what the former wickedness of the penitent, what the circumstantial position he occupies, or what the social auspices under which he is found. He may be young or old, rich or poor, learned or illiterate, renowned or unknown, bond or free-his turning to God is felt to be the signal for song among the heavenly host. Of sectarian gladness they know nothing. Theirs is no geographical joy. There are no denominational angels. Throughout their countless ranks one simultaneous exulting emotion prevails when a prodigal, wherever discovered, comes to himself;" for "there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over ONE sinner that repenteth." There is implied, 66 Once more, That the interests of the repenting sinner are secured for ever. Let no one, however, imagine that he has furnished a spring of gratulation to the holy angels if he has the consciousness of living in known sin. Such a one has rather cause to dread that the triumph of the demons, who glory over the impenitent, has, in his case, never been suspended, and that the harps of the celestials have never vibrated with ecstasy,have never sounded one blissful note over his deliverance from hellish thraldom, found, as still he is, in the "bonds of iniquity." But over every subject of that "repentance which needeth not to be repented of" they have rejoiced, and this passage in angelic history is bright, and beautiful, and glorious, in the radiance it flings over the believer's prospects. Feeling his own weakness, and viewing the number, and malice, and might of his foes, he does occasionally tremble lest he should fall in the tremendous conflict. But were he to be thus vanquished,—were he to be carried from the battle-field a fatally wounded victim, instead of leaving it "more than a conqueror,”—what would become of "the sons of God" that "shouted for joy" over his conversion? Whither would they look, stung as they would be with the conviction that their exultation had been premature? with the conviction that their joy, instead of heralding in the morning of the christian's career, should have been reversed by them for its evening, when they would have seen whether his day was to close in heaven or hell? The angels wait not, however, to witness the result of the believer's struggle with his countless foes, or his solemn encounter with "the last enemy," ere they celebrate the jubilee of his being. They know that He who has bidden them sing, and listens to their choral joy, sees "the end from the beginning;" that there is "nothing too hard for Him to perform" who hath assured his disciples, "ye shall never perish;" and that He who has "begun a good work" in the soul of the penitent will carry it on to the triumphant day, for "he is faithful who hath promised." No doubt, therefore, for a single moment is allowed to unstring their harps,-no notes of hesitancy ever mingle with their music, -no breath of suspicion ever pollutes the atmosphere in which their joys freely respire. Soon as the sigh of evangelical remorse trembles in the bosom of the penitent,-soon as the dew of sorrow wets his supplicating eye, soon as his voice, faltering with emotion, articulates, though in broken accents, the prayer, "God be merciful to me a sinner," all heaven peals with hosannahs never to cease; for "there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over ONE sinner that repenteth." They rejoice because by such an event the sphere of their angelic charge becomes wider, because a fresh proof is given that happiness can be found in the favour of God alone, because an additional trophy is presented to the adaptation of the word, the energy of the Spirit, and the attraction of the cross,-because they witness a new soldier buckling on the armour of Zion's King,—and because they love the penitent, and Him who loved him and gave himself for him. My Reader, are you on the way to heaven? Of whom shall I enquire respecting you? Of Jesus? He answers, "I shall soon pronounce his sentence before assembled worlds." Of devils? They reply, "Ask the angels." Ye spirits of light and love, that in shining multitude encircle the throne of our blessed Master "who willeth not the death of a sinner," have ye swept your golden lyres,-have ye raised your confluent voices,have ye shouted for joy, over the repentance of him whose eye readeth these pages? "If we have, he can tell thee; if we have not, we long to do so; but he is of age, ask him, he shall speak for himself." Now, what sayest thou, friend? or does thy silence bring to angels' eyes the tear over "thy hard and impenitent heart ?" HOW TO LIVE LONG. BY THE REV. J. W. LANCE. "What man is he that desireth life, and loveth many days that he may see good? Keep thy tongue from evil, and thy lips from speaking guile; depart from evil and do good; seek peace and pursue it." "My son, forget not my law, but let thine heart keep my commandments; for length of days, and long life, and peace, shall they add unto thee." Such is the testimony of the divine word. From it we are led to regard long life as a blessing, and one which may be ordinarily secured by obedience to the divine precepts. It is not, indeed, pretended that in every case this is verified; but the scriptures set it forth as a general principle, and as such its truth may be tested. For while religion does not altogether exempt either from the accidents or the diseases incident to human life, it is, nevertheless, the conservator of "the life that now is," to an extent probably much larger than is generally supposed. Look at the drunkard, and the libertine; they are obviously suicides; but that which is true of them is also true in its degree of indulgence in almost every description of evil. Vice, generally, tends to undermine the health, and, consequently, to shorten life. Religion forbids all vice; those, therefore, who yield obedience to its dictates, escape many of those physical evils which lead to an untimely grave. There is, however, a still more intimate and important connection between our moral and physical condition. We are too apt to imagine that if we refrain from immoral acts, whatever our thoughts may be, we are inflicting no injury upon our bodies. This is a mistake, and one which, if not corrected, may result in the most fatal consequence, even to our earthly existence. The truth is-impure, unchaste, and peevish thoughts, though their very existence be unknown and unsuspected by any but ourselves and God, are yet sowing within us the seeds of disease, bodily weakness, and mental imbecility. If passion is buffeting you to day, it will leave you bruised, enfeebled, and sickly to-morrow. If you are indulging in some secret sin, it is writing its name in unclean, indelible characters upon your physical constitution, and "that which has been done by you in secret shall be proclaimed upon the housetops." Religion reaches to the thoughts; hence its great value, even to our temporal wellbeing. It curbs our passions, and subdues our lusts, by purifying the heart, which is the black fountain from whence every evil stream proceeds. It teaches us that denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present world. The Saviour's teaching was peculiarly adapted to this end. It entered the secret chambers of the soul, touching the springs of thought and action, in a manner that discovered the Master's hand at work. It shewed that covetousness was theft, unjust anger murder, and the unchaste desire fornication or adultery. By the influence of true piety the wild gusts of passion that rage within the human soul are hushed to silence, and the blessed calm that reigns promotes our bodily health, as truly as it fits us for the enjoyment of that state when sickness is entirely unknown. And, hence, is there not some ground for believing, that as religion shall exercise a wider sway among the families of the earth, the term of human life may be greatly extended beyond that which it now ordinarily reaches? If it be objected, that we do not perceive any marked advantage in this respect upon those who obey the divine precepts over those who neglect them, let it be remembered that many of the diseases which shorten life, and to which the virtuous may fall victims, are often inherited from the vices of others. Many a pious child possesses a sickly constitution from the follies of a dissolute parent, and many a plague, invited and fostered by the dirty and the intemperate, cuts off, ere its departure, the cleanly and the sober. "No man liveth to himself." True, it was said by an inspired writer, "the days of our years are three score years and ten," but this was evidently uttered in a tone of mournful complaint, merely stating a fact known to the experience of the writer, and furnishing us with no standard whatever as to the age that might be attained in a happier condition of society. It is, in great part, the business of religion to undo what sin has done; and since the wickedness of man has shortened his days upon the earth, why may we not expect that, as holiness progresses, his days will be proportionately lengthened? With the antediluvians, indeed, in the great age to which they attained, they seemed but to increase in wickedness; but as a long life under the influence of sin is made to dishonour God and injure the soul, so in connection with a renewed and sanctified nature may it be made productive of the highest blessings of which humanity is susceptible. How delightful is old age associated with righteousness. The grey head then, indeed, becomes a crown of glory. The prophet Isaiah, in depicting the glory attendant upon the reign of righteousness in the earth, beautifully refers to this subject. "There shall be no more thence an infant of days, nor an old man that hath not filled his days: for the child shall die an hundred years old; but the sinner an hundred years old shall be accursed. And they shall build houses, and inhabit them; and they shall plant vineyards, and eat the fruit of them. They shall not build, and another inhabit; they shall not plant, and another eat: for as the days of a tree are the days of my people, and mine elect shall long enjoy (or shall wear out) the work of their hands." In what striking contrast does this appear to our present condition. Such is the brevity of human life, that one generation seems but to be preparing for another. And no sooner do we reach such an age as to have attained wisdom and sanctification of heart by long continuance in the ways of goodness, than symptoms of feebleness and decay are discoverable. We look at our fathers in Christ. We have been guided by their counsel, and admonished by their rebuke. We would fain detain them with us if we could; but the keepers of the house have begun to tremble, the strong men bow themselves, and those that look out at the window are darkened. They are going to their long home. Sin, and sickness, and sorrow, have brought them to a premature old age. But when religion shall exercise its life-giving influence over the whole family of man, there shall be the wisdom of age without so much of its feebleness. "They that be planted in the house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our God." "In old age they shall be fat and flourishing." Not uprooted even by stormy winds, not nipped with chilling frosts; but at last, when the time for their removal to a yet more genial soil shall have come, gently transplanted by the tender loving hand of God, they shall discover their richest blossoms, and their ripest fruits, in the garden of God above. There is a near connection between long life and happiness, for sorrow of heart tends to shorten life. This was affectingly expressed in the pathetic language of Jacob: "Few and evil have been the days of the years of my life." Our Lord, being a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief, became prematurely old. That he appeared so, we have a kind of accidental proof, for the Jews, in one of their conversations with him, as recorded by John, said, "thou art not yet fifty years old," implying something like an approximation to that age, when, at the time, he was but a young man. But this was only in accordance with that prophecy which said, "his visage was so marred more than any man, and his form more than the sons of men." Nor do we wonder, when we remember that "he bore our griefs, and carried our sorrows." "He was bruised for our transgressions." "He was delivered, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God." "He was cut off in the midst of his days," that by him the righteous might "flourish as the palm tree, and grow as the cedar in Lebanon," preparatory to their filling a place in the eternal paradise above. Houghton-Regis. THE LATE RAILWAY MANIA. BY EDWARD MIALL, ESQ. Who does not retain a lively recollection of the railway frenzy? Who does not look back upon it with shame? How many are there who can recall it without a pang of unavailing sorrow? The annals of no country under heaven, perhaps, ever exhibited a more glaring instance of an entire population "hasting to be rich." What an endless variety of schemes got up merely as a pretext for insane gambling! What a rush of competitors after the hollowest bubbles that craft and impudence could inflate! It was as if every man in the kingdom having assets, real or imaginery, had agreed with every other man to throw them simultaneously *The above is extracted from Mr. Miall's recent work, recommended in another page, "The British Churches in Relation to the British People." We had intended to record in our pages the lesson taught our churches by the facts described in this article; but the above extract appeared preferable to anything we could have written. We think the effect upon the social and religious character of christians, not only on losers, but on gainers too, has been most appalling. No doubt, those who have gained most temporally have lost most spiritually, but all have been religiously hindered. May it be a lesson for all of this generation old enough to learn it. |