CHRISTMAS DAY.

BY HENRY KIRKE WHITE.

Yet once more, and once more, awake, my harp,
From silence and neglect-one lofty strain,
Lofty, yet wilder than the winds of heaven,
And speaking mysteries more than words can tell,
I ask of thee, for I, with hymnings high,
Would join the dirge of the departing year.
Yet with no wintry garland from the woods,
Wrought of the leafless branch, or ivy sear,
Wreathe I thy tresses, dark December! now;
Me higher quarrel calls, with loudest song
And fearful joy to celebrate the day

Of the Redeemer. Near two thousand suns
Have set their seals upon the rolling lapse
Of generations, since the Day-Spring first
Beam'd from en high! Now to the mighty mass
Of that increasing aggregate we add

One unit more. Space, in comparison,

How small, yet mark'd with how much misery!
Wars, famines, and the fury Pestilence

Over the nations hanging her dread scourge;
Tho' oppressed too in silent bitterness,
Weeping their sufferance, and the arm of wrong
Forcing the scanty portion from the weak,

And steeping the lone widow's couch with tears.
So has the year been character'd with woe

In christian land, and mark'd with wrongs and crimes;
Yet 'twas not thus He taught not thus He lived,
Whose birth we this day celebrate with prayer
And much thanksgiving. He, a man of woes,
Went on the way, appointed path, though rude,
Yet borne with patience still; he came to cheer
The broken-hearted, to raise up the sick,
And on the wandering and benighted mind
To pour the light of truth. O task divine!
O more than angel teacher! he had words

To soothe the barking waves and hush the winds:
And when the soul was toss'd with troubled seas,
Wrapp'd in thick darkuess and the howling storm,
He, pointing to the star of peace on high,
Arm'd with holy fortitude, and bade it smile
At the surrounding wreck.

When with deep agony his heart was racked,
Not for himself the tear-drop dew'd his cheek,
For them he wept, for them to heaven he pray'd
His persecutors. Father, pardon them,
They know not what they do.

Angels of heaven,

Ye who behold him fainting on the cross,

And did him homage, say, may mortal join

The hallelujahs of the risen God?

Will the faint voice and grovelling song be heard

Amid the seraphim in light divine?

Yes, he will deign, the Prince of Peace will deign,

For mercy to accept the hymn of faith,

Low though it be humble. Lord of life,

The Christ, the Comforter, thine advent now

Fills my uprising soul! mount, I fly
Far o'er the skies, beyond the rolling orbs;
The bonds of flesh dissolve, and earth recedes,
And care, and pain, and sorrows are no more.

REMINISCENCES OF THE CLOSING YEAR.

BY ENOD.

How rapidly time flies! The arrival of December reminds us how much of our journey has been passed. It is a time for mingled reflections. To the young, the ardent, the hopeful, Christmas with its many social festivities is hailed as the harbinger of coming pleasures. Let not the selfish, cold, calculating policy of the world check too soon the exuberance of youthful feeling. What if the young do dream hopefully of the future? they know as yet little of care, and sorrows are forgotten as soon as they are past. What if they do cherish implicit faith in the probity of man? their own hearts are unsuspecting, and there is happiness in love and truth. Foster, ye youthful hearts, those kindly elements of the soul, for they will scatter many a day of enjoyment on a barren scene; hope, while hope is brightest; love, while youthful feelings are fresh and buoyant enough of the world's sorrows and disappointments will come. When a few more Christmas days are passed I ween ye will grow more sober. See with what a calm and placid mean that busy man in the meridian of life regards this Christmas time. Experience has taught him that every man's portion in this life is a mingled cup; that joys and sorrows are shared by all. He neither fears nor hopes too much, because he knows not what may be on the morrow.

But to none will the associations be more hallowed, more solemn, more tender, than to reflecting age. What a fitting season is winter for an aged man to moralize! Look, he has buttoned on his thick warm coat, and is gone to face the biting air. "I will go," he says, " to my favourite haunt on the top of the hill. How cheerless every thing looks! Nature, what a barren, sterile, withered look hast thou put on! Many a time, clad in thy beautiful garments thou hast charmed and solaced my mind. What ennobling, purifying, tranquillizing emotions thou hast beamed into the heart! Many a salutary lesson hast thou taught me from this hill. Once in summer I was here before the sun had risen: a sombre shade rested upon the sleeping world; not even a murmur could be heard. There was one universal pause, as of breathless expectation of the opening day. Suddenly gleams of light darted upon the mountain tops, and then the hills and the valleys, and the trees caught the beams; the lark with a song of joy rose to welcome the king of day. Then, as the full glories broke out, a prayer of gratitude ascended from my heart to heaven. But summer and autumn have passed away, while scarcely a vestige of their loveliness remains. And yet, cold, stern, cheerless winter, thou too teachest many a salutary lesson to reflective minds; thou preachest a powerful sermon on the transient existence of all sublunary things! See that withered leaf! it has braved many a storm, and yet, although blighted and seared, hangs tenaciously to its parent stem: another blast or two, its sap will be dried up and it will fall. I, too, have outlived many of the vicissitudes of life; have survived the destruction of many an endearing scene.

My life is in the yellow leaf.'

And when another blast or two has spent its force, this frail tenement will crumble into dust. Hark! one of the wild choristers is singing on that withered hedge. Thou pretty singing bird, thou warblest a sweet and plaintive requiem over nature's desolation. But where are thy comrades gone, those who joined in the chorus of song? They are away to a milder clime. How transient, how very short-lived are all earthly things! A signal example of this truth is furnished by our own experience. They call me old, and yet I can review in an hour the main features of my life, and the impression is as if I had lain down to sleep, and awakened to find myself a decrepid old man. And yet two whole generations have passed away since I was dandled with fonduess on my mother's knee;-two whole generations. How many will that be? It is calculated that one thousand million are alive upon the earth at the present time; double this number, and we find that no less than two thousand millions of individuals have played their little rounds

and finished their existence since I began mine. This vast multitude have passed away in sixty years: they are gone, but where? The grand assize will show. Some of these were companions of my joys and sorrows; we were knit together in the bonds of affection, heart to heart; and when that grim monster death came on his fearful mission, he had many a sensitive cord to cut through. Oh! there is a soothing, a hallowing influence in the memory of the sainted dead! Even in our loneliness the mind appears to keep up a secret communion with departed friends. I know not whether those heavenly beings infuse into the soul some property of their own ethereal nature-some of those purifying inflnences which are around the throne of God. Perhaps they do; but this I know, communion with the spiritual and heavenly, moulds our thoughts, and feelings, and desires in harmony with the objects of our musings."

Yes, the close of the year should be to all a season of reflection. Many of our happiest, our most useful impulses, are suggested from the teaching of past experience. The reason men are not wiser and better is in a great measure that they meditate and reflect so little. Let us press home such questions as these: What influence has the past exerted in moulding and developing our own individual character? Have we amassed a good share of sound practical knowledge, ready for use upon any emergency? Do we understand and practise the science of self-goverment better than we did? In what condition are our moral qualities this Christmas? Have we a kinder heart beating in our bosoms? Are our affections stronger, purer, more elevated than they were a year ago? As Christians, are we more imbued with the spirit of that religion which we profess? And of the influence which we have exerted upon others, has it been a beneficial one? Have we helped to make mankind holier and happier every day, or have we become mere loiterers or hindrances in the path of the Gospel and human progress? Let it never be forgotten, that all improvement, of whatever character or extent, take their rise in personal and individual effort-and this is a consideration of some importance. All will admit the desirableness of having a generation of intelligent, moral, christian men; but we are apt to look upon improvement only in a general and collective point of view, as if a solitary individual formed no part and exerted no influence upon the general mass.

Let us take a hasty glance at the present condition of our country and the world. Notwithstanding all our commercial and financial embarrassments, politically speaking, there is much in our position and prospects to excite hope. Never perhaps were the temper and constitution of society so favourable to individual improvement. A spirit of inquiry is ripening; sober, practical investigation is lifting the gilded covering from antiquated abuses; a desire for education is greatly extended, and means for its gratification are brought within the reach of all. The labouring population begin to discover that their position and employments are by no means incompatible with high moral and intellectual elevation. A spirit of genero s emulation is rousing the latent powers of great masses of our hitherto neglected and neglecting fellow men. What a fine, practical example of this we have in the "Working Men's Essays on the Sabbath," a scheme which affords one of the most useful precedents of the day. It is not merely for the elucidation of particular social and theological opinions that the project commends itself to our approbation, although such points are of vital importance; the benefits will unfold themselves in all the hidden sources of social amelioration. Who can estimate the intellectual, moral, and religious influence which this mental effort will exert upon the thousand competitors, and the consequences which through them will react upon society? I said the institution of prize essays for working men affords a noble precedent to the age. Would that such an example might find frequent imitation! Why should we not have prize essays for working men on all and every subject? Science, literature,

natural and moral philosophy, theology, everything which it is important for mankind to know? We might fill a chapter upon the advantages which would follow the extension of such a project. It would produce in the minds of the labouring poor an advancement in sound practical knowledge. We should not only have an increased number of really good treatises, but promote to some extent the mental and moral improvement of society. If philanthropists, and men of wealth, who desire the elevation of the masses, would invest from time to time a few pounds in establishing prize essays, the results would amply compensate for the expenditure.

The signs of the times are in many respects indicative of good. "A change has come over the spirit of our dreams;" men are everywhere active and earnest. While ou the continent the course of progress is marked by human gore-brothers imbruing their hands in brothers' blood, ours is a battle of principle-the holy with the vile, the true with the false, the just with the unjust. With persevering followers and an open field truth must conquer. A noble band of men are leagued together, aye, and they will achieve their objects. What are they? Why, the elevation of the masses, to make mankind mentally, morally, physically, such as God intended them to become; -to make knowledge universal and free; to drive away everything like error and oppression from the world; to make truth and love triumphant, and men peaceable, sober, loving their homes, and training up the next generation to be better than the last. Let those who labour to bless mankind take courage, for we are already on the threshold of a brighter day. The intolerant reign of caste and exclusiveness is drawing to a close. The time is coming when the fiat of the units in power shall not stifle the cry of the millions when struggling for rights. A voice has gone out into the world, that every man is a brother, and the rights of the individual are the bulwarks of society. Italy and Germany heard it: the oppressor trembled at the sound, and the brave struggled for liberty. France heard it, and in her haste to exterminate the abuses of years made her country one universal wreck. France has yet to learn that prudence, discrimination, and firmness are as necessary in all great national movements as fervent and simultaneous action. France has yet to learn that noble institutions can only flourish in a genial, in a christian soil; that "liberty, equality, fraternity," are only other words for a higher degree of moral purity, for confidence in man, for faith and love. Britain heard that voice; she looked calmly round upon the world and said, "I will learn a lesson from the experience of others. I see," thus she soliloquized, "that an effect never rises above its cause; if a people will have wise government, that people itself must be wise. To elevate a nation we must begin with the individual; for unless intelligence, sound moral and religious principles, circulate in the veins of society; legislative or municipal enactments will never make a wise, a contented, and prosperous people. There's my wretched sister Ireland; she will never arise from her abject degradation until her natural guardians, by well-directed benevolence, by patient instruction, by self-denying example, engraft right principles into the sons of the soil.' The people, too, must exercise self-reliance and honest industry and enterprise, in order to enjoy social order, comfort, and happiness.'

Britain is right; personal improvement is the foundation of all national greatness. It is good to struggle for the wisest institutions, for the most enlarged privileges, for the most perfect administrations; but it is better to elevate the character of the people, because then the former must follow, and their possessors will know how to use and appreciate them. Let every individual then strive to raise himself, for by so doing he will add something to that element of the State of which his nature forms a part.

In conclusion, let us give a few thoughts to that highest of all considerations, the influence of religion on the times. The Christian is the best, the only true philosopher. If religion be the one grand panacea for human ills, if its principles are the only perfect rule of faith and practice, if religion be

the fountian of our best joys, if it alone opens the gates of a blissful immortality, in a word, if the great object of life be to prepare for eternity, and all earthly considerations possess no intrinsic importance only so far as they have relation to our eternal interests, then I say that the only practical philosopher is the citizen of the kingdom of heaven. Would that vital Christianity were as widely diffused as its principles are efficacious! If in these eventful times we have been spared the horrors of a civil war, and property and life continue to be held with a sacred regard; and if at this moment the position of our country excites the attention and respect of the world, much of this is owing, under God's providence, to the little leaven of Christianity, which is effectually at work in the mind, heart, and institutions of the people. Although the truths of religion are ever the same, there are times when the efficacy of their principles shines with greater lustre; and so of the duties and responsiblities of their advocates, they ever must and will be affected by external circumstances. If, then, the tone and spirit of society influence the development of all great principles; if to promulgate with efficacy any doctrine we must adapt our operations in accordance with the spirit of the times; one thing is clear, an increased zeal and activity must characterise the disciples of Christ. That man is a very shallow observer who cannot discover in the signs of the times, the elements of vigorous action, of earnestness and power. See with what avidity the subtle dogmas of sceptical philosophers are received and promulgated just now!-rationalism, pantheism, idealism, communism, like a number of devastating elements, are each struggling for the mastery. The emissaries of infidelity and popery are daily filling up their ranks with multiplied recruits, enlisting, as they have done, numbers of the finest intellects of the age. And what is the secret of their unparalleled success? Not that the principles themselves are based in truth, but that the advocates are earnest, determined, enthusiastic. Look at that mighty engine the press; what an immense amount of moral and mental poison it is instilling into the very vitals of society. I rejoice to know that that instrument is not wholly in the hands of the unsanctified. The Church is at length beginning to acknowledge and thoroughly appreciate its aid.

We might have thrown out a few hints upon the nature of the agency which the wants of the times seem to require; but having trespassed thus far on the attention of our readers, we would end by premising that, if our remarks induce any by practical and individuol example, to strengthen the interests of religion and social order, if we should awaken in any minds a desire to advance the temporal and eternal interests of mankind, our end will be amply accomplished.

A DEIST IN A STORM AT SEA.-Mr. was a young man who had openly and publicly espoused deistical principles, asserting that there was no place of future punishment, or, in other words, no hell; his conduct corresponding with his principles, and being possessed of a very handsome estate he soon wasted his constitution by intemperance; finding it decayng very fast, he was advised to try the sea in order to restore his health. Accordingly, he took a passage with an old pious Presbyterian captain, who kept up prayers on board, and with whom he often disputed the point, asserting that he did firmly believe that there was no hell, or place of future punishment. However, they had not been long at sea before the Lord sent down a mighty tempest, as he did on Jonah. All human probability of surviving was taken away; the captain, preceiving their imminent danger, began to exhort them to prepare to meet God, when, to his great surprise, the first man that cried out was Mr. No-hell. The captain, being a steady, firm man, turned to him and said, "What is the matter with you? I hope you are not afraid to die. I thought you told me that you verily believed there was no hell.” "Oh," said he, all bathed in tears, wringing his hands, it will do well enough to talk about on land, but it will not do for a storm at sea.”—Abbott