trammels, he next went to the circus, for this sole pur pose, but was so unfortunate as to find there two or three of the brethren, and of course the offence was not noticed. He then went to the theatre with the same view, and found himself seated between two members of the church! But a deacon had seen him enter, and the next day asked him why he had gone there; he said to get clear of the church.' He was asked if he should go again; he replied that he had no inclination to go, but he should if he found it necessary in order to compel the church to exclude him. Accordingly he was complained of, summoned before them but did not go, and soon learned that he was 'expelled,' but was refused a copy of the vote of expulsion. Thus it ended.

We have given this case at length, because it seems to us a remarkable one, and we are sure of the facts. Let us not be understood as approving all the steps taken by the persecuted individual. We disapprove and regret them. But we believe no one, whatever his party, will find it in his heart to bestow as much censure upon him, as upon those whose unchristian and cruel treatment drove him to these questionable means of escaping from their thraldom. In considering such cases, we feel the full meaning of the exhortation of the apostle, especially in its last clause. Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage.' We congratulate those who have had the conscience and the courage to throw off that yoke, and from our souls do we pity those, who, with amazing, unintelligible servility, continue to bow their necks to this most disgraceful of earthly despotisms.

We have just received a pamphlet containing the history of a controversy on Infant Baptism, and some singular acts of discipline and exclusion, in the 'Richmond-Street church,' Providence. Our limits do not permit us to notice it here, nor to offer, as we intended, our views of the Scripture rule of church discipline. We may take another opportunity.

THOUGHTS ON THE CHARACTER AND PROSPECTS or THE PRESENT AGE.

Continued from p. 21.

I have mentioned several particulars, whether favorable or otherwise, that seem to distinguish the character of the present times. I proceed to notice briefly one or two others.

I remark, then, that a spirit of cupidity-of rivalry and eager competition, in all the pursuits of life, prevails beyond all former precedent. Each is striving to be first in the race; to secure the highest advantages for himself. Each is bending all his energies, and employing every artifice, to outstrip his competitors for the prize, whatever be the object of pursuit, as if life and death were suspended on the issue. This is most strikingly exhibited, where it might naturally be expected, in the hot pursuit of gain ; and it has imparted a vigorous and prolific energy to the various branches of industry unknown to former times, and which

bas done something to compensate for the social and moral evils, the fierce emulation, the envy, hatred and strife, the dishonest arts, the quackery, circumvention and fraud, the restless impatience, and feverish discontent, of which it is the fruitful source. But though its effects are most conspicuous in this pursuit, its operations are not confined to this channel. They are to be traced over the whole surface of society. They show themselves in every occupation, however frivolous, or however grave; in public bodies, and in private individuals. Nothing is exempt from the influence of this spirit. It has given its tone and complexion to the whole body politic, and imparted a character of busy, bustling impetuosity to all its movements whether of business or amusement. Ail are burrying onward. Possessed of facilities of loco-motion, which to our sober ancestors would have seemed little less than miraculous, we are still dissatisfied, and our impatient spirits chafe at the tardiness of the swiftest vehicles. Το pass in the shortest possible time from one point to another, and this often for no imaginable purpose but that of hastening on in the same way to a third, seems to constitute a high object of ambition. In such cases as these the effects of this spirit are amusing or ludicrous merely. But it likewise produces effects of a very different character. And in no department, perhaps, have these effects been more extensively prejudicial than in that of education. I here use the term in its broadest sense, as comprising all those influences, direct and indirect, by which the young mind is affected, its powers trained, and its moral and intellectual babits formed. Never, probably, has so deep and

general an interest been felt in regard to this great subject as within these few years past, or equal exertions been made to improve and promote it. Few seem insensible to its paramount importance; and for effecting its purposes, parsimony itself has become liberal in its disbursements. New books, nove Imechanical contrivances, new systems of instruction, and new associations have filled the land. Yet what effects, in any measure adequate to the zeal and earnestness manifested, have been produced? To my mind, I confess, it seems doubtful whether, on the whole, any substantial advantage to this cause has been gained, any valuable improvement effected. And I attribute the failure of these efforts principally to the spirit I have been endeavoring to portray. The over anxiety of the public mind has defeated its own purposes. The business has been overdone. Change has succeeded to change with a rapidity that has prevented anything from coming to maturity. Parents and teachers have been too eager to gather their fruits; and a system of forcing, a sort of moral hot-house cultivation has been the result of this eagerness. And the fruits-what has been, and what is, their character? The experience of the next thirty years must be left to answer this question. God grant it be not by a sad array of unsteady principles, chimerical projects, and futile or pernicious laws. Too much reliance, I am persuaded, is placed on artificial arrangements, and too little on the kindly and plastic powers of nature. Time,' it is said, is the most valuable of all things.' Nothing is more just. It follows, then, that none of it should be permitted to run to waste. All should be improv

ed. Education should commence with the first opening of the infant mind.' This too is undeniable. But how? Not by taking the little being out of the hands of nature. Not by following him through all his buoyant and joyous movements by minute and vexatious supervision; not by compelling him to play scientifically; but by gently and cautiously soliciting the opening faculties, cherishing the kindling sympathies and affections, and permitting the delicate flower to expand securely under the genial warmth and in the free air of parental love. Let it not be forgotten, that in the human mind, as in all her other productions, Nature has her own purposes to accomplish; and that, if we disturb her arrangements, and interrupt her processes too forcibly, the inevitable results will be distortion and imbecility.

There is a great deal in the prevalent systems of education, in their plans, contrivances, and inventions of every sort, that to my mind appears to be the result of a philosophy that has little either of depth or solidity, either of grandeur or elevation, either of warmth or spirituality in its views and principles; a philosophy that savors strongly of Materialism; of the shallow logic, and solemn frivolity of the Uulitarians.

The course of popular education has far too exclusive a reference to the present world. To qualify the young for performing the business, or figuring in the gay scenes of life, seems the only object kept steadily and earnestly in view. The visible and palpable are too much the objects of attention. There is too great a parade of practical results and of means and expe