haps, it would be proper to produce some evidence of her Christian virtues; but I must bring my narrative to a close. Let it suffice to say, that her whole reliance was placed upon the atoning blood of the Saviour; her faith was strong, her piety elevated, and her resignation wonderful. For more than three weeks I visited her daily, and each time she evinced the same unwearied faith and meek submission. So gradual was the approach of death, that when it arrived, it was felt to be sudden-almost unexpected. The last evening I saw her, she was seated in her chair, undisturbed by the slightest pain, and seemingly happy. The next morning I was called away a short distance, to unite in the bonds of marriage a youthful couple, who were happy in their mutual affection; and as I returned from this scene of festivity, I was met by the messenger who came to inform me of the death of Emma G- -; a few hours since she had yielded up her life without a struggle, and now she "slept in Jesus." What a contrast! Here were two individuals of the same age, and whose prospects, a short time since, were equally bright and cheering While one had entered into a state which promises every thing of earthly felicity, the other had gone down to the grave in the midst of her youth and expectations. Thrice happy Emma! how enviable is thy lot! Soon will the deadly consumption cause thy brother and sister, who now mourn for thee, to follow in the same path, and then will ye meet-" a family in hea -ven." And now, if this plain narrative should attract the attention of any of the young, who are strangers to the joy which springs from the possession of true piety, I beseech them to pause and reflect-I entreat them not to regard this event as an idle tale, or pass it by without laying it to heart. Oh! what a lesson it should write there. When the light and bounding step of youth is arrested, the exulting voice hushed, and the joyous countenance and animated features touched by the hand of death-who does not for the moment pause and reflect? When I kneel by the bed-side of such, or assemble with the throng, to pay the last sad honours, I am strongly reminded of the declaration of Solomon, "Vanity of vanities; all is vanity." Imitate, then, the subject of this narrative. She obeyed the divine injunction, and remembered "her Creator in the days of her youth" she devoted herself to the service of her Maker--she early renounced this world and its vanities, and took upon her the cross of Christ. We bid you, in the language of our Saviour, "Go thou and do likewise." G. L. H. The writer of the above article has failed to notice one characteristic moral fact, connected with almost every instance of consumption. The subjects of this disease can never be made to feel their danger, or convinced that their recovery is impossible. Hence, although this disorder, perhaps more than any other, furnishes opportunities of making our peace with God; still, in the great majority of cases, owing to the deceptive nature of the malady, these opportunities are not improved. The victim of consumption, though he has so many fearful notices of his ap proaching end, and goes down so leisurely to the grave, often goes impenitent and unrenewed.-EDIT. For the Christian Journal. What becomes of the Flock? down THIS is a question which involuntarily presents itself to my mind, when I hear, as I have often done of late, of clergymen having a parochial charge, accepting an agency from some one or other of the religious charitable institutions of the day, and travelling about the country for weeks and months together, to make collections for its funds. Whilst engaged in the duties of this agency, what becomes of that flock which they have solemnly promised to feed with the food of God's word; to watch over and premonish; to guide in the paths of righteousness and truth; and of their care and culture, of which they must one day give account? It is not to be supposed that the sheep are altogether abandoned for the time, and left to feed themselves. This they would hardly submit to. The runaway shepherd does not close his church, it is to be presumed, during his long peregrinations. He is obliged to make provision for the usual pulpit duties, as they are significantly called; for otherwise his absence would not be permitted. But supposing he does this in the best manner possible; that he furnishes a substitute in all respects unexceptionable to the congregation, and whose discourses are equally calculated with his own to please and edify-the question still forcibly recurs, What becoms of the flock? There are other duties of the high and responsible office of a steward of the mysteries of God; and how are they discharged? Who visits the sick, and imparts comfort, and consolation, and hope to the dying? Who performs the last sad offices, not of friendship and of humanity alone, but of pastoral care? Who cheers the afflicted mourners, and wipes away the tears of the widow and the orphan? These things, it is true, with many others which enter into the sphere of clerical duty, may also be done by proxy; but do they not peculiarly devolve on the appointed and stated pastor? and can he discharge his conscience when he leaves them to be done by a stranger? Is the interest of any religious charity, however excellent and useful, to be put in competition with the solemn obligations of his ordination vows, and the more important interests of that particular flock, to the promotion of the spiritual welfare of which he has solemnly engaged to devote himself, body, and soul, and spirit, and has publicly consecrated all his powers and faculties? The answer is obvious. The duties of the pastoral office cannot be performed by proxy, and the proper shepherd be guiltless. The welfare of that portion of Christ's church, which he has engaged to guide amid the snares and perils of this "naughty world,” and to feed with the bread of life, is paramount to that of any or every charitable association on the face of the earth. His ordination vows imply, as far as is possible, the personal performance of the duties which he then assumed and however excellent the deputy who may be pro vided, those duties cannot be so well and so beneficially discharged by him as by the pastor himself. The practice to which these remarks apply, though not of infrequent occurrence among other denominations, has been, so far as my information extends, but lately introduced among ourselves. Now. however, the evil is commenced, and from present appearances seems likely to be common. A disposition is evinced on the part of some of our clergy to engage in this kind of duty; and when no opportunity offers itself within the boundaries of our own church, it is sought and embraced elsewhere. If the practice be objectionable when confined to our own institutions, it becomes still more so, for additional reasons, when it is extended to institutions over which the church, officially, has no control. These associations are composed of persons whose views of doctrine, and whose mode of worship, are diametrically opposed to those which we conscientiously believe to have alone the sanction of Scripture, and of apostolic and primitive belief and practice. The duty of their agent is to make application for pecuniary assistance; and, to do this most effectually, he is directed to preach in behalf of the society whose cause he has undertaken, and by an exposition of its claims from the pulpit, to endeavour to obtain the public patronage. In complying with these directions, the Episcopal clergyman is involved in no little difficulty. He is bound, by his ordination vows, to use the liturgy of the church on all occasions of public worship; but in the discharge of his agency, he comes to a congregation where it is practically unknown, and in which only parts of it could be used. What is he to do? If he attempts to do his duty, he gives offence to his auditors; and if he accommodates himself to the custom of the place where he holds forth, though he may plead necessity, and they may laud him for his liberality, he rebels against the authority of the church. This difficulty, in the way of an Epis. copal clergyman engaging in an undertaking which will lead him into immediate contact with other deno, minations, is easily conceived. And it has been exemplified in an instance of no very remote occurrence, where a clergyman of the Protestant Episcopal Church was so far forgetful of consistency, and of the obedience which he owed to the authority and principles of the body which gives him his bread, as to officiate before a Presbyterian congregation, in the total disuse of any part of that "Common Prayer" which he had most solemnly engaged to use before all sermons and lectures whatever. In extenuation of his conduct, it may be urged that the liturgy of the church would not have been tolerated where he officiated. That is quite likely. But then, in the name of all that is honest, let him keep out of such a predicament. There was no legitimate reason for his preaching in a place of public worship, where his own invaluable formulary would be disallowed; and the plea rather aggravates than extenuates the impropriety. It may have been deemed by him, and in this opinion many others may unite, to be a mighty stretch of Christian charity, and a wonderful sacrifice of prejudice and bigotry to brotherly love; and flattering lips may have confirmed this impression of a deceived heart and a wrong head, and lauded the act to the skies. But the laudatory language of those who were especially obliged by the act, and whose opinions and practice were thus complimented and allowed, can hardly, one would think, satisfy the conscience of the delinquent himself in an hour of serious reflection. At any rate, he stands without any conceivable excuse in the estimation of every CONSISTENT CHURCHMAN. From the Church Register for January 17, 1829. Letter from a Clergyman, on the Death of his Daughter, addressed to a Friend. DEAR SIR, I have for a long time intended to write to you, but have been prevented by a variety of circumstances. But at length an event has occurred, which, while it prevents me from exercising my ordinary duties on the Lord's day, has filled me and my family with such sorrow, that I feel it to be my comfort to be employed; and to be employed in communicating my feelings to one who, I am persuaded, will sympathize in my feelings. to God, in his wise providence, has called me and my dear Mrs. part with our beloved daughter Mary, the little girl with whom you were acquainted when you lived in We last evening attended her mortal remains to the house appointed for all living. I wished to preach this day, but was prevented against my own judgment; so that I am compelled to pass a silent Sabbath. My dear daughter had been considerably unwell, from repeated colds, for a long time; but we did not think her dangerously ill until a very little time. before her departure. Indeed, so ignorant was I of her danger, that on the day before her death I set out to fulfil an appointment to preach, about twenty miles from home, and I was thus deprived of the melancholy satisfaction of receiving her last breath, and of closing her eyes in death. Last Sunday she was at the Sunday school in the church, and came home unwell; yet, so much delighted was she with the proper duties of the Lord's day, that she herself selected several hymns, and committed them entirely to memory; and she did not rest satisfied until her mother assured her that she had gotten them all, every word. The hymns selected by her for this her last Lord's day's exercise, while here on earth, were the 167th, the 171st, and the 172d, of the new collection. She had before this, by direction of her Sunday school teachers, learned several other hymns, and particularly the 33d, and she was frequently repeating the concluding words, saying they were so pretty- "How sweet a Sabbath thus to spend, Yes, her hope is 'realized. She has entered into the rest prepared for the people of God. She is now singing her hymns in that heavenly Sabbath which shall never end. She is now, by the favour of God, constituted one of that blissful choir of Holy Innocents, whose early death in the cause of Christ the church is this day celebrat ing. Her bereaved parents have determined to make the 33d hymn their constant morning song on the Lord's day. We attempted it with faltering lips this morning, but it was impossible for us to raise the voice of joy in a moment of such trial. But we have fully realized the benefit of the apostolic injunction, "Is any afflicted? Let him pray." From this holy exercise we now derive most of our comfort. The place which was occupied by our beloved daughter at the family altar, where it was her delight to be found en her knees in the time of prayer, is indeed vacant; but still we find great comfort in commending our souls to a faithful Creator, and we can, from a blessed experience, say, we have found comfort in the God of all consolation. I find I have not told you what the disease was which so suddenly and unexpectedly terminated the earthly existence of our dear little girl. I tremble as I write the word hives, that cruel Scourge of infancy, that certain harbinger of death. I find, my dear Sir, that I am using terms which hardly become one, whose office it is to proclaim that God is good in all his ways. And why should that be called cruel which our heavenly Father sees necessary to bring his redeemed to glory? For some wise reasons, which, perhaps, we cannot now understand, but which we shall know hereafter, our infant suffered, in her way to heaven. Perhaps it is the necessary law of human beings, from which even infancy is not exempt, that, 6 through much tribulation they must enter the kingdom of God." The suf ferings of our little girl during the night of Christmas day, and during the next day, were exceedingly severe; but she never murmured. Whenever her mother asked her how she was, she invariably answered better, until a few moments before the destroyer came, when she said she was worse. It is a great mercy that the senses of our little girl were preserved to the very last; and that after a paroxysm of pain and suffering, she was permitted to fall asleep in much apparent ease. It could not be distinguished from the taking of ordinary rest in sleep. Not a muscle was distorted; not a feature changed. While her lifeless body remained with us, it appeared more lovely than ever it did before. A parent says this--but he only repeats what all our sympathizing friends de-, clared who saw the body, as it lay prepared for the burial. She had a great, a very great anxiety to see her dear father, as she always called me: and her mother, who had despatched a messenger for me, pro-mised that she should see me at six o'clock, the very moment at which she departed from this transitory scene, and in which I hope--I know--she was permitted to see her heavenly Father, whom she always loved from the moment she could lisp his name, and repeat the prayer which his Son has taught us. I arrived within ten minutes after she breathed her last, and though I need support myself, yet I am enabled to afford some comfort to my afflicted It is a fault, I know, in parents, to think too much of their children, and to say too much about them; but it is a fault of which I cannot now cure myself. She had, as you know, but a feeble body; yet her mind was exceedingly strong, and she was daily exhibiting to us new proofs of that excellence, which convinced us that she was ripening fast for heaven. It used to be said by many of our friends, that our little Mary was too good for this world. Before she saw three years old, she had acquired, from her mother chiefly, a most astonishing knowledge of geography, and she had learned from me a great many Latin words and phrases. She was wonderfully pleased with her attainments in these things; and it was a great pleasure to me, too great, perhaps, to exhibit what she knew on these subjects to our acquaintances. But when I thought that her geography and her Latin called off her attention. from the things of heaven, she laid aside her atlas and her Latin books without a murmur, and directed her mind with great success to more necessary pursuits. It is with pleasure that I now recollect a conversation with her less than three weeks ago, when I found, by a reference to her atlas, that she had forgotten much of what she having the church of England worship settled among them; there were some Presbyterians, and fewer Quakers here, but many persons, careless of all religion, and of a profane mind. However, some of the principal inha had known respecting this lower world, and that she recollected only a few words of Latin. She had for a long time been so much occupied with the things of the world to come, and in repeating the songs of heaven, that she was much weaned from all inferiorbitants did, in a very serious manner, and with a true Christian spirit, set forth their wants of a ministry to the society. concerns. She had learned, and was learning a great many things from the Bible; God's book, as she always called it, and the Prayer Book, and her Sunday school books. Just exactly those things have been taught her, chiefly in the Sunday school, which fitted her for the enjoyment of the inheritance of the saints in light. Her dear remains were committed to the silent dust yesterday afternoon, at sunset, attended by a great number of sympathizing friends; among whom I was gratified to see the scholars of her beloved Sunday school. Their tears and their lamentations showed how sincere was the affection they had for our departed Mary. Her grave is placed near to that of our little boy, that we lost four years ago. My dear wife has been very unwell for more than a month past; but was raised up sufficiently, I am happy to say, to attend to our little girl during the last sad trial. She still remains feeble, but I pray that she may now continue to mend. I did intend, when I began this letter, to write about other subjects, besides that which has thus far occupied it. But I find I can talk of nothing else, or think of nothing else at present, but my dear departed Mary. For the Christian Journal. REMINISCENCES-No. XI. Extracts from Humphrey's History of the Society (in England) for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts. NORTH-CAROLINA. "THE Society had a very early knowledge of the destitute condition of this province. The inhabitants, in the year 1702, amounted to above 6,000 souls, chiefly English, besides slaves; a great number of the people were desirous of "But the society received the fullest information from the Rev. Mr. Blair, who had been an itinerant missionary in that country, supported with the bounty of £50 from the Lord Weymouth. He arrived in North-Carolina in January, 1703, and entered upon the duties of his mission with great diligence and pains. The people were settled in such distant plantations on the several rivers' sides, that he was obliged to be continually travelling from place to place, which could not possibly be done without a guide, both on account of the badness of the roads, and difficulty to find them if once lost, as also by reason of the deserts between several plantations, some extending 40 miles in length, without any inhabitant. Besides, there was another exceeding inconvenience in travelling this country; it was watered with seven great rivers, all without any bridges over them; two only which could be passed on horseback; the others had ferries over them in some places, and the passage there was chargeable. However, he exerted himself for some time, bought horses for himself and a guide, travelled over all the country, and preached twice every Lord's day, for above a year; and sometimes on the week days, when the people could bring their children for baptism. He baptized above 100 during his continuance here. He was very useful to revive a sense of religion among them; and the people, in pursuance of an act of assembly there, began to build three small churches But he found the labour of continual travelling in excessive heats in summer, and extreme colds in winter, beyond his strength of body and mind. He would have resided on one precinct of the country, and officiated to all who could come to him; but the people were dissatisfied with |