account, he will be found in his seventy-sixth year. He is, nevertheless, strong, hale, and active, capable of forming canals, building bridges, and excavating docks. He has, however, already accomplished a sufficiency to be ranked among the benefactors of his country, and to obtain a place in the archives of immortality. His numerous works will furnish the best eulogium on his talents and industry, and stand as a proud memorial to future generations, of what sterling genius, accompanied with perseverance, has actually accomplished. To the youthful aspirant after scientific knowledge that may be reduced to practical utility, such examples are powerful in their operation, and beneficial in their results. The ascent to the temple of fame may seem steep and difficult, but obstacles that have been overcome, cease to be insurmountable. Persevering efforts, though commencing under inauspicious circumstances, rarely prove unsuccessful; and he who excels, scarcely ever remains unrewarded. There is no department in mechanics, arts, or sciences, that is placed beyond the reach of improvement, or incapable of a nearer approximation towards perfection. The ample field opens its gates to all who are willing to enter, and both to the enterprising and the indolent we would say, 66 Go copy the example, and imitate the conduct, of Mr. Thomas Telford." THE revellers in the gay city of New York were still engaged in thought-diverting song and dance. The splendid drawing-rooms and extensive saloons blazed with unrivalled brilliancy, presenting a fac-simile of the beau ideal of the poet, such as the creative genius of the author of Lalla Rookh has furnished. Smiling beauty held its devotees entranced, the worshippers of the bacchanalian god bowed servilely before his shrine, and, by large and destructive potations from the grape, the juniper-berry, or distillations from molasses, seemed to bid defiance to every attack which reason or reflection might make upon them,—all was noise, motion,-hilarity. The blush of morning was already visible: still the song and the wassail rout were heard.-The mists which frequently envelop the Kittatany mountains, had fled before the bursting glory of the monarch of day,-still the dance was continued,-and thus, as if no heart heaved with any emotion other than perfect happiness would produce, the inhabitants hailed the anniversary of their Independence—at the jubilant celebration of it at New York. But there was one among the multitude, who participated not in the joyous festivity, whose heart beat not in unison with the high sounds of enjoyment which generally prevailed; she was a lonely cheerless widow. All night she had watched, and listened, and prayed, and wept. Yet no sound of approaching footsteps, such as she wished to hear, greeted her troubled spirit, the noisy din of the city rose and fell upon her ear, the song and the laugh were heard floating upon the thin silent ether, but these only added to her sorrow, and made the wo, that sat heavy upon her stricken heart, still heavier. Her neat and humble dwelling was situated at a short distance from the town; it might have been called, and by some considered, lonely! but it was not really so, for, like the highly favoured family of Bethany, she was frequently indulged with visits, enlivening visits, from HIM, in spirit, who was in the habit of often making cheerful the abode of Lazarus and his sisters by his bodily presence. How many years had elapsed since Mrs. Bretange was called to shed the almost first tear of sorrow she had shed since she had borne that name,-occasioned by the death of the loved husband of her youth, I know not, nor shall I presume to conjecture; all I know is, that the painful dispensation had given a check to her natural volatility, and thrown a pleasing seriousness over her feelings and her person. The pleasures in which she had revelled, and the gay parties in which she had taken the lead, lost for her their charms and attractions, and hence they had been abandoned; reflection followed, and evidence, which admitted not a question, was soon furnished, that in very mercy she had been afflicted. The defencelessness of widowhood was indeed experienced; vil lains, assuming the address and name of gentlemen, like vultures pouncing on their helpless prey, defrauded her, and, from circumstances of ease and respectability, she was reduced by fraud and rapine to comparative indigence. Still the elasticity of her mind rose above the depressing influence of her condition. The energy of female character shone out in her conspicuously, and, as riches made to themselves wings and fled away,-unearthly treasures opened to her awakened mind their invit. ing, satisfying charms,-grace gently led her to their possession, and religion's tried and never-failing consolations supported her mind, and cheered her soul, and hence she struggled on with heroism such as genuine piety alone could have produced. One child, one only child, the offspring of devoted affection, was left-a lovely boy. In him, all her earthly cares centred. For him, she toiled and laboured. Over him, she shed the tears of fondness, such as a mother only could feel. If pious example could have influenced, exhortations have prevailed, or prayers have succeeded, the desires of her heart would have been realized;-Bernard would have walked in the paths his mother trod. But it was not so. For him, prayer had no attraction, religion no pleasure,-holiness no charms. The heart of his poor widowed mother bled with an agony such as description fails to portray, as she beheld her son, her only son, advancing fast toward manhood, having no fear of God before his eyes, and no preparation for heaven in his heart. Years passed on, and Bernard had attained his twenty-fourth year, without any change being seen in his spirit or practice, except, indeed, from bad to worse. Still the fond mother fainted not, the yearning affection of her soul, as if gaining fresh energies as the depravity of her offspring was developed-like another Syrophenician matron, she became pressingly importunate, and, with the spirit of the father of the faithful, she believed in. hope, against hope; with the hand of faith, she put aside the curtain shadows which interpose betwixt the present and the future world, and with a strong mental vision, invigorated and cleared by the book of inspiration, gazed on the scenes and consequences of the last day, "That day of dread decision and despair, That day for which all other days were made." She heard by imagination the decree go forth from the lips of the Judge,-" Let him that is filthy be filthy still,”-and seemed to listen to the appalling sentence, Depart, ye cursed, into everlasting fire." She knew her child-her son-would be among that number, unless an act of sovereign grace were now passed in his favour. The thought was crushingly oppressive; feeling appeared to have arisen to its utmost altitude; and, in an agony bordering on wildness, she implored, as she besought the Father of mercies-" Save, oh, save my son, through Him who died, the just for the unjust, to bring sinners to God." Such was the employment, and such were the feelings of the widow and the mother, as a new day broke upon our world, and while yet the gay and the thoughtless caroused in the beautiful city. Among that number was Bernard; who, as the fourth hour of day was proclaimed by the announcers of time's flight, entered the humble abode of his mother, under the influence of inebriety. The worn-out watcher, overcome by anxiety and fatigue, had sunk into a state of partial forgetfulness; and therefore, until late the next morning, Bernard encountered not the pleading eye, and grief-worn countenance of his parent. To follow the profligate prodigal through all the labyrinthine wilds of folly which he trod, or to exhibit all the scenes of low profanity in which he revelled, would be to unclose a catalogue, at which morality would turn pale, which credulity might call in question, and from which modesty would turn away her face in disgust and horror. Such exhibitions had better never be made; their very disclosure seems to diffuse a polluting influence, almost tainting all who look upon them. They possess no feature of a pleasing character to the eye of the pious, and their influence can never be otherwise than baneful to the inexperienced youth, or hardening to the dissolute adult. It will be sufficient for all the purposes intended by this sketch, to state, that he ran the lengths and breadths of wickedness-and appeared to have reached the heights, and to have fathomed the depths, of depravity. Of him it might have been said, Mercy did not soften him, The gospel had no charms for him, He like an ox to slaughter went. The history of the revival of religion in America, might, without impropriety, be contemplated as the history of a new epoch in the prospects and celebrity of that increasingly important country. However high America stood before, in a prospective point of view, and with whatever attention other and distant nations surveyed her, she has now advanced to a point of elevation, which commands the respect of powers, to which, before, she was comparatively unknown; and she will continue to advance, until the admiration and the fear of the other kingdoms of the world shall be offered as a tribute to her excellent greatness. The purifying leaven which is now spreading through all ranks of her vast population, will present a renovated people, whose influence shall be as extensive as her resources are mighty. In this revival, the city of New York was favoured to share. The Spirit from on high was poured upon the people in such a degree, as before had been scarcely conceived. The fire ran, and its quickening influence was acknow. ledged by thousand, and tens of thousands. That such as had waited and prayed for this manifestation of grace and mercy, should richly partake of, and rejoice in it, can create no surprise. Among that number stood the pious Mrs. Bretange. If, before this, the solicitude of her heart ran high, in reference to her profligate son; from analogy it might be argued, if proof had not been afforded, that it would increase in the same ratio as her own spiritual knowledge and experience advanced. Every motive which ingenuity could devise, and every argument which wisdom, and love, and zeal, could supply, were employed, to induce the son of many prayers to return from his evil way, and live. There was one feature in the character of Bernard which seemed to have been placed there as a redeeming quality, to save the whole from execration and abhorrence; it was the strong affection which he bore towards his mother. It is indeed admitted, that this did not always operate; passion led him frequently to perpetrate what his informed judgment reprobated. There were periods, however, when no pleasure, of which he was capable, could bear comparison with what he experienced on beholding his mother happy. It was during one of these periods of rationality, and while the spirit of inquiry was strong and extensive, that the pious widow besought her wandering son to accompany her to the church which she constantly attended, and where multitudes, both of men and of women, had become obedient to the faith. For a few moments he treated the request, as he had often done on former occasions, with heartless raillery, but at length, won by the earnestness of his mother's entreaty, he consented to accompany her. That a mother-a christian mothershould feel emotions, such as cold, calculating theorists cannot even imagine, at beholding the sole object of her earthly affections and anxious solicitudes brought within the sound of the proclamation of those truths which are declared to be "the power of God unto salvation," is not, cannot be surprising, even on natural principles. Admitting so much, (which admission can only be made for argument's sake,) as that enthusiasm, in the popular sense of that word, or the wild, uncontrollable sway of strongly excited imagination, working on the animal passions, be the whole of what is generally denominated religious feeling, still the enjoyment is real, although the nature of the enjoyment may not be correctly understood;-while the recollection, that the same means as those now resorted to, produced the results experienced, will naturally excite and encourage the pleasing anticipation, that similar effects may follow in the experience of those beloved. Or, supposing, even, that temporary delusion has obscured and bewildered the intellectual part of its victim, still the delusion itself must be beneficial, while it begets an enlarged and holy philanthropy in reference to others: Such were the noble and rational feelings which filled the bosom of Mrs. Bretange, while she gazed upon her son, as he took his seat in the temple of God. Every powerful appeal to the conscience, every alarming display of the evil and tendency of transgression, and every touching exhi bition of the love of God, and of Christ, which fell from the lips of the energetic minister of mercy, fixed the inquiring eye of the watchful mother upon Bernard, while she raised her heart in unuttered supplication to the Spirit of truth, that He would enlighten the eyes of the understanding, and take away the enmity of the heart of her son. Still no pleasing indications were afforded, that her petitions were granted, or that ignorance and depravity had been superseded by knowledge and purity. Thus the service closed, and the mother and son returned again to their dwelling: the widow, to weep and pray,— and Bernard, to act as if given up to the hardness of his heart, and contempt of God's holy will and commandments. One part of the declared experience of the distinguished apostle of the Gentiles, is powerfully illustrative of the character and the feelings of the sorrowing mother on this occasion,-"perplexed, but not in despair!" No!-to circumscribe either the mercy or the power of God, she felt would be impious, and, although cast down in her spirit, her hopes were not destroyed. She remembered the cheering promise," I will contend with him that contendeth with thee, and I will save thy children,"-and felt her faith encouraged;-she contemplated the fact of that promise as actually accomplished in innumerable instances, in a spiritual point of view, and was strengthened still to believe that Grace can renew, and grace alone, God will his pow'r and truth make known, Once again, the commanding eloquence of a mother's love was poured forth by Mrs. Bretange, as she besought her dear Bernard to listen to the voice, and attend to the solicitation, of Him who requests, "My son, give me thine heart."-"Tonight, Bernard,” she continued, entreatingly, as she pressed one of his hands between her own, "to-night," go and unite with those who worship in spirit and in truth.' I regret that I cannot accompany you, but my health will not allow it. At your return, I hope to receive some information of what you may hear, and by that means derive a satisfaction, which the ordinances of the sanctuary have not failed to afford me, now, for many years. You will go, will you not Bernard ?"-A tear started into her eye, as the request was urged, it was irresistible,-the powerful feelings of the prodigal had as yet been only numbed, not entirely crushed, he returned the pressure of the hand, and replied, "Well, mother, as you wish it, I will go this once, although I had promised to spend this evening another way, and yet," and he hesitated,—" will not some other time do as well?-I promise you." The quick speaking eye of Mrs. Bretange, kindled with instant anxiety, and in a tone, solemn, yet affectionate, she observed, before he had finished the sentence, "Procrastination is the thief of time, Be wise to-day, 'tis madness to defer." Bernard, half reluctantly, promised, that for once it should be as his mother wished, and, after adjusting his dress for the occasion, departed. There are periods when the mind, for want of external objects, turns in upon itself; during which time, neither the so phistry of fallen nature, nor the objecting depravity of the heart, can furnish satisfactory apology for past conduct, or deprive the unwelcome intruder, thought, of its inquisitive and annoying influence: thus Bernard felt as he walked forwards. Daylight had for a full hour receded, and darkness had wrapped its impervious mantle round the recent objects of vision. He was alone too; he had rather shunned, than courted the unwelcome companionship of those who went to the house of God with joy, and hence he became a prey to reflections, personal and confounding. The peculiar anxiety of his mother on his account, in connexion with a strong something within, which he could not explain, led him into a reverie, which, by the time he had reached the place of worship, prepared him to give so much attention to the service, as might enable him to judge concerning the claims of religion upon his attention and reason. The devotional exercises which preceded the preacher's address, were attended to by him with little more than external propriety, but the pathos, the vigour of thought, and felicitous adaptation of his discourse to the character of the audience, displayed by the "ambassador for Christ," riveted his attention. Conviction followed the light which was imparted,-gradually he yielded up his prejudices one by one, until the wounded spirit groaned its agony in prayer,-silent yet strong, God, be merciful to me, a sinner." The big tear rolled down his cheeks,-a tremor, powerful as new, possessed him,-destruction seemed to yawn at his feet, while no way of escape as yet appeared to him. The sermon was concluded, and, as on such occasions was usual, an invitation was given by the minister, to all persons present, who might feel a desire to "flee from the wrath to come," to approach the front of the pulpit, in order that special prayer might be by the church presented for them. Several attended the invitation,-a circle was already formed, yet Bernard was not one of the number who composed it. He sat confused and condemned, and half concealed in his solitary seat. His character had been well known; and his presence, even, excited the surprise of not a few. That he should be there alone was strange, but that he should remain when special prayer was made, and after many had retired, was stranger still, and could only be accounted for on the score of curiosity, if not a worse feeling.-Prayer became fervent,-it increased, the place to many became a Bochim, to others a Bethel ; one after another was seen, on that memorable evening, approaching the place of penitents, who, like Ephraim, repented, after they were instructed, and presently among that number knelt the recently scoffing, but now deeply penitent, Bernard. The hour grew late, but the flight of time was not perceived by those who prayed, or by those who were prayed for; one holy purpose seemed to possess each,—“I will not let thee go, except thou bless me;" while one prevailing prayer was offered"Bless me, even me, O my Father." The widow had waited with the utmost longing, her son's return, as she expected at the close of the sermon; but two hours since then had elapsed, still he came not. A dreadful misgiving took possession of her, that either Bernard had said, "I go, and went not,"-or, having gone, his return had been prevented through meeting with some of his profligate associates. Eleven o'clock had already been struck, and the heart of Mrs. Bretange sunk within her, as her fears led her to believe, with sickening confidence, that her son, her loved, unhappy son, was revelling in some haunt of vice, when a footstep fell on her ears-she listened, but it was not Bernard ;-it drew nearer,- --some one approached the door of her cottage,―a gentle knock informed her, admission was sought;-an inquiry was made, and the well-known voice of a friend answered. The door was instantly opened, when one, who had just left the house of prayer, congratulated her on the change of heart which her son had experienced, and afterwards explained all that the widow required to know; who, clasping her hands, exclaimed,—“ Father, I thank thee, my prayer is granted,-my son was lost, and is found, he was dead, and is alive again;" doubt would have mingled with her confidence, and blighted her joy, had not the character of her informant silenced it. Her heart beat wildly, she experienced a delirium of pleasure; she clasped her hands, and wept like an infant-her happiness surpassed expression, while her gratitude mocked every attempt to give it utterance. And now the sound of Bernard's tread was heard,-the door opened, and he entered; his countenance, as he held out his arms to receive his mother, proclaimed the correctness of all that had been told her, she advanced to meet him, but the tide of joy, of rapture, was too powerful; she might have exclaimed with old Simeon, "Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word, for mine eyes have seen thy salva tion." Ere the arms which she had extended, to enfold in their embrace her son, had reached him, she sunk down at his feet, and, with one short sigh, passed to heaven. London. PROPHECY RESPECTING ISHMAEL, AND THE FULFILMENT OF IT. "AND he will be a wild man; his hand will be against every man, and every man's hand against him; and he shall dwell in the presence of all his brethren," Gen. xvi. 12. "What is said of the wild ass, Job xxxix. 5-8, affords the very best description that can be given of the Ishmaelites, Bedouins, and wandering Arabs, the descendants of Ishmael. "God himself has sent them out free; he has loosed them from all political restraint. The wilderness is their habitation, and in the parched land, where no other human beings could live, they have their dwellings. They may be said to have no lands; and yet the range of the mountains is their pasture; they pitch their tents, and feed their flocks wherever they please. They are continually looking after prey, and seize on every kind of property that comes in their way. Many potentates among the Abyssinians, Egyptians, and Turks, have endeavoured to subjugate the wandering or wild Arabs; but though they have had temporary triumphs, they have been ultimately unsuccessful. Sesostris, Cyrus, Pompey, and Trajan, all endeavoured to conquer Arabia, but in vain. From the beginning to the present day, they have maintained their independency; and God preserves them, as a lasting monument of his providential care, and an incontestible argument of the truth of divine revelation. Had the Pentateuch no other argument to evince its divine origin, the account of Ishmael, and the prophecy concerning his descendants, collated with their history and manner of life, during a period of nearly four thou sand years, would be sufficient. Indeed, the argument is so absolutely demonstrative, that the man who would attempt its refutation, in the sight of reason and common sense would stand convicted of the most ridiculous presumption, and the most excessive folly. |