God-surely at the time when the messenger of the gospel is thus executing the commission wherewith he is charged and warranted, he may well say that there is no fury in God. Surely at the time when the Son of God is inviting you to kiss Him and to enter into reconciliation, there is neither the feeling nor the exercise of fury. It is only if you refuse, and if you persist in refusing, and if you suffer all these calls and entreaties to be lost upon you-it is only then that God will execute His fury, and put forth the power of His anger. And therefore He says to us, "Kiss the Son, lest He be angry, and ye perish from the way, when His wrath is kindled but a little." Such then is the interesting point of time at which you stand. There is no fury in God at the very time that He is inviting you to flee from it. He is sending forth no blasting influence upon the fig-tree, even though hitherto it had borne no fruit, and been a mere cumberer of the ground, when He says, we shall let it alone for another year, and dig it, and dress it, and if it bear fruit, well; and if not, then let it be afterwards cut down. Now, my brethren, you are all in the situation of this fig-tree; you are for the present let alone; God has purposes of kindness towards every one of you; and as one of His ministers I can now say to you all-that there is no fury in Him. Now when the spiritual husbandman is trying to soften your hearts, he is warranted to make a full use of the argument of my text-that there is no fury in God. Now that the ambassador of Christ is plying you with the offers of grace and of strength to renew and to make you fruitful, he is surely charged with matter of far different import from wrath and threatening and vengeance. Oh! let not all this spiritual husbandry turn out to be unavailing; let not the offer be made now, and no fruit appear afterwards; let not yours be the fate of the barren and unfruitful fig-tree. The day of the fury of the Lord is approaching. The burning up of this earth and the passing away of these heavens is an event in the history of God's administration to which we are continually drawing nearer; and on that day when the whole of universal nature shall be turned into a heap of ruins, and we shall see the gleam of a mighty conflagration, and shall hear the noise of the frame-work of creation rending into fragments, and a cry shall be raised from a despairing multitude out of the men of all generations, who have just awoke from their resting-places-and amid all the bustle and consternation that is going on below, such a sight shall be witnessed from the canopy of heaven as will spread silence over the face of the world, and fix and solemnize every individual of its incumbent population. Oh, my brethren, let us not think that on that day when the Judge is to appear charged with the mighty object of vindicating before men and angels the truth and the majesty of God-that the fury of God will not then appear in bright and burning manifestation. But what I have to tell you on this day is, that fury is not in God -that now is the time of those things which belong to the peace of our eternity; and that if you will only hear on this the day of your merciful visitation, you will be borne off in safety from all those horrors of dissolving nature, and amid the wild war and frenzy of its reeling elements, will be carried by the arms of love to a place of security and everlasting triumph. THE CAPTIVE AND HER FAVOURITE HYMN. Cyclopædia of Religious Anecdote. foresight; timely care; the care of God over his creatures. Colo-nel, n. (curnel), the commanding officer of a regiment. The spelling is French—the pronunciation is from the Spanish, Coronel. Ex-cursion, n. (L. ex, cursus), a | Prov ́i-dence, n. (L. pro, video), rambling or roving about; an expedition or journey into a distant part. Sav'age, n. (L. silva), an inhabitant of the woods; a barbarian. Cap-tiv'i-ty, n. (see p. 11). Hab-i-ta'tion, n. (L. habitare), dwelling place; place of abode. Mel'an-cho-ly, n. (Gr. melan, chole), a gloomy state of mind, formerly said to proceed from a redundancy of black bile.—Adj. dismal; pitiful. Bible, n. (Gr. biblos), book. The name Bible is given, by way of eminence, to the scriptures of the Old and New Testaments. Sol'i-tude, n. (L. solus), loneliness; a desert place. Drear or dreary, adj., gloomy; dismal; hopeless. Publish, v. (L. publicus), to make known among the people. Be-reav'ed, p.p. (S.), deprived of; robbed of. Ac-quire', v. (L. ad, quaero), to get; to attain; to learn. Lan'guage, n. (L. lingua), human speech; manner of expression, or style of speaking. Rec-ol-lect', v. (L. re, con, lectum), to gather again by the mind, or remember; to recall to memory. IN the year 1754, a dreadful war broke out in Canada, 1 between the French and the English. The Indians took part 1 Canada, the northern part of N. America, was colonized by the French in 1608, and continued in their possession till 1759, when it was conquered by the British. 2 with the French, and made excursions as far as Pennsylvania, where they plundered and burned all the houses they came to, and murdered the people. In 1755, they reached the dwelling of a poor family from Wirtemberg,3 while the wife and one of the sons were gone to a mill, four miles distant, to get some corn ground. The husband, the eldest son, and two little girls, named Barbara and Regina, were at home. The father and his son were instantly killed by the savages, but they carried the two little girls away into captivity, with a great many other children, who were taken in the same manner. They were led many miles through woods and thorny bushes, that nobody might follow them. In this condition they were brought to the habitations of the Indians, who divided among themselves all the children whom they had taken captive. Barbara was at this time ten years old, and Regina nine. It was never known what became of Barbara; but Regina, with a little girl of two years old, whom she had never seen before, were given to an old widow, who was to them very cruel. In this melancholy state of slavery these children remained nine long years, till Regina, reached the age of nineteen, and her little companion was eleven years old. While captives their hearts seemed to have been drawn towards what was good. Regina continually repeated the verses from the Bible, and the hymns which she had learned when at home, and she taught them to the little girl. They often used to cheer each other with one hymn, from the hymn-book used at Halle, in Germany: "Alone, yet not alone am I, They constantly hoped that the Lord Jesus would, some time bring them back to their Christian friends. The In 1764, the hope of these children was realized. merciful providence of God brought the English Colonel Bouquet to the place where they were in captivity. He conquered the Indians, and forced them to ask for peace. The first condition he made was, that they should restore all the prisoners they had taken. Thus the two poor girls were released. More than 400 captives were brought to Colonel Bouquet. It was an affecting sight to see so many young people wretched and distressed. The colonel and his soldiers gave them food and 2 Pennsylvania, one of the United states, and, next to New York, the most important, granted to W. Penn, by James II, in 1681. 3 Wirtemberg, a kingdom in S. W. of Germany,-its capital city is called Stuttgards clothes, brought them to the town of Carlisle, and published in the Pennsylvania newspapers, that all parents who had lost their children might come to this place, and in case of their finding them, they should be restored. Poor Regina's sorrowing mother came, among many other bereaved parents, to Carlisle; but alas! her child had become a stranger to her; Regina had acquired the appearance and manner, as well as the language of the natives. The poor mother went up and down amongst the young persons assembled, but by no efforts could she discover her daughters. She wept in bitter grief and disappointment. Colonel Bouquet said, "do you recollect nothing by which your children might be discovered?" She answered that she recollected nothing but a hymn, which she used to sing with them, and which was as follows: "Alone, yet not alone am I, Though in this solitude so drear; I feel my Saviour always nigh, Scarcely had the The colonel desired her to sing this hymn. mother sung two lines of it, when Regina rushed from the crowd, began to sing it also, and threw herself into her mother's arms. They both wept for joy, and the colonel restored the daughter to her mother. But there were no parents or friends in search of the other little girl; it is supposed they were all murdered; and now the child clung to Regina, and would not let her go; and Regina's mother, though very poor, took her home with her. Regina repeatedly asked after "the book in which God speaks to us." But her mother did not possess a Bible; she had lost everything when the natives burnt her house. THE PRACTICE OF PATIENCE. Jeremy Taylor. AT the first address and presence of sickness, stand still and arrest thy spirit, that it may without amazement or affright consider that this was that thou lookedst for, and wert always certain should happen, and that now thou art to enter into the actions of a new religion, the agony of a strange constitution; but at no hand suffer thy spirits to be dispersed with fear, or wildness of thought, but stay their looseness and dispersion by a serious consideration of the present and future employment. For so doth the Lybian lion, spying the fierce huntsman; he first beats himself with the strokes of his tail, and curls up his spirits, making them strong with union and recollection, till being struck with a Mauritanian spear, he rushes forth into his defence and noblest contention; and either 'scapes into the secrets of his own dwelling, or else dies the bravest of the forest. Every man, when shot with an arrow from God's quiver, must then draw in all the auxiliaries of reason, and know that then is the time to try his strength, and to reduce the words of his religion into action, and consider that if he behaves himself weakly and timorously, he suffers never the less of sickness; but if he returns to health, he carries along with him the mask of a coward and a fool; and if he descends into his grave, he enters into the state of the faithless and unbelievers. Let him set his heart firm upon this resolution—I must bear it inevitably, and I will, by God's it nobly. A FATHER'S ADVICE TO HIS SON. grace, do Goethe. way from THE time draws nigh, dear John, that I must go the which none returns. I cannot take thee with me; I must leave thee in a world where good counsel is not superabundant. No one is born wise. Time and experience teach us to separate the grain from the chaff. I have seen more of the world than thou. Therefore I give thee this advice, the result of my experience. Attach not thy heart to any transitory thing. The truth comes not to us, dear son; we must seek for it. That which you see, scrutinise carefully; and with regard to things unseen and eternal, rely on the Word of God. Search no one so |