is, almost of necessity, good. If you consult the lives of many men, eminent for the generosity of their hearts, and the kindliness of their natures, the sweetness of their temper, and the amiability of their general character, it will be seen they were of this class, and found "Tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in every thing." The great John Foster speaks of the many thousand miles which he had traversed in his walks. Who can tell how much he owed, and how much we owe to this habit of his? Most of our great philosophers, and men eminent in natural science, belonged to this class; they walked, and to some purpose. To these, we may add great statesmen and historians. Last come the poets. Here are few exceptions. Even the poets, familiar with courts and scenes of civic splendour, display a familiarity with rural scenes and objects which could not have been the work merely of maturer years. In this remark are included Roman and Greek, ancient and modern, sacred and profane. Who forgets David and Isaiah, Jeremiah and Hosea? Add to these Virgil and Ovid, Lucretius, Homer the bard of war, and Eschylus our own Shakspere, Milton, and Cowper. : The last in his "Task," teaches us how to improve this healthful exercise in innocent diversion. 66 'Tongues in trees." How much may you learn respecting them!-their genera, species, uses, history! How much may you learn from them! A new lesson at every season of the year; at every stage of their growth; under every aspect. Lessons of hope, of confidence, of humility, of gratitude to God! "Books in the running brooks." How interesting to trace their origin, and courses, and end,-to gather wild flowers on their brink, and obtain an extensive practical knowledge of botany to recall the many uses of these little streams-of the mills they turn; the corn they grind; the thirst they satisfy; the soil they water; the plants they nourish, and the fish that inhabit them. "Sermons in stones." How important and interesting is the study of geology! Every stone you see by the way side is apt to suggest to you lessons for wisdom, and subjects for reflection, almost countless and important as numerous. What revolutions earth has undergone-why such variety of strata-how produced-how elevated or degraded? Whence these myriads of remains of life, animal and vegetable? We know no science which can preach sermons more striking and useful, than geology. Even at the present degree of its growth, what ideas it gives of God, of the world, of man, and time! "Good in every thing." This is possible, and has been often done. Every object that strikes the eye; every sound that reaches the ear; every perfume that regales the sense, and all the thousand little incidents which occur during our walks abroad may be turned to good account. In how many ways this may be done cannot be said. Circumstances will be constantly varying, but with every change, will intimate to a thoughtful mind some improvement. These remarks might be indefinitely extended, but probably we have said enough to intimate the kind of use which should be made of our walking exercises. Of course some of these hints belong to one season; others to another; but all, and more than all are, we think, worthy the attention of our readers who are learning to think, or who would do so. To these let them add such as their own peculiar position suggests. In conclusion, shall we who are endowed with a rational mind, a moral nature, an immortal soul, look with as listless and uninterested an eye upon the fair face of this lovely land of ours, as the dull ox which crops the tender grass, and treads down the fragile beauty of the flower? Shall we be like those who go down into the depths of the earth, explore her dark recesses, and bring forth her hidden treasures to the light, without thought of God, or seeing in those buried wonders, tokens of his wisdom, power, and goodness? Shall we be like those who cultivate the teeming soil, and see the varied changes of the vegetable world, even to the most minute particulars; who know the laws and harmonies and plans of God in nature, (perhaps not as a science, but as a fact) and yet admire him not in all this, and see not his glory? Shall we be as those who traverse the mighty sea, and witness all its wonders; or visit distant lands and see their varied marvels, but who find in these no holy inspiration and no indication of God? Shall we be of those who penetrate the mysteries of science; who know the secret springs of nature, and who can track the myriad labyrinths of art, without one lesson of morality, or one doctrine of divinity learned by us from them? To these, and questions of like character, let an emphatic No! proceed in reply. Up, then! like him who " spake of trees, from the cedar of Lebanon, to the hyssop that springeth out of the wall." Learn, and make a sanctified use of your knowledge. Remember Isaiah who says, "Lift up your eyes to the heavens above, and look upon the earth beneath." Recall to mind the beautiful words of Him who came to save,-" Consider the lilies." And endeavor in every season of the year to make that use of your "walks abroad" which shall be for your own happiness, instruction, and honor, and which shall make your heart better, and infuse into your soul more worthy sentiments of Him" who made heaven and earth." Moreton le Marsh. WE MUST HAVE OUR SABBATHS. B. H. C. WE like to be in business, but not of it. Wandering through our city thoroughfares on some mission connected with mercantile engagements, we must confess that it is delightful to step aside for a few minutes into those walks where the heart finds solace, and forgets the lesser matters of the world in the contemplation of its nobler duties and its higher destinies. Sometimes an old book-stall will arrest attention, or the mixed crowd pouring forth from some weekly lecture, and turn our thoughts toward their only resting-point-the truth of God. Sometimes a mere placard, or posting-bill, will whisper quiet in the midst of bustle and excitement, or a meeting for some purpose of philanthropy, of right, or of religion, carry us away from our purpose for a little season, and make us feel that we are sent into the world to get good, rather than to get money. Passing not long since through Threadneedle-street, we noticed an unusual bustle about the "Hall of Commerce." There was a meeting there, called to oppose the recent order for the passing of our Sunday mails through the Post-office; and men of all grades, and trades, and shades of opinion in politics and religion, were flocking to it. It was a healthful and refreshing thing to see those to whom in our littleness we had supposed every day to be alike, earnest in their zeal for the Sabbath. All seemed of one heart and mind, bankers, merchants, shipowners, underwriters, professional men and tradespeople-all joined in one object-all united in one purpose. France, and her desecrated Sabbaths; popery, and her temporizing and latitudinarian atrocities; infidelity, and its lax and demoralizing influences, appeared to have so shewn themselves in all their hideousness, that to be hated, they needed only to be seen. It was a brave and beauteous spectacle that banding together of London's citizens, to protest against a desecration of God's holy-day, which must issue in London's shame and confusion. Our errand ended, we too made our way into that spacious hall, and found it filled with the flower of metropolitan wealth and influence. Dr. Croly rose to speak—a man well-known in literary circles, and celebrated for his talent in the pulpit. A hearty welcome greeted him as his fine commanding form appeared in front of the platform. He was all earnestness, but his action, violent and yet monotonous and unmeaning, detracted something from the power of his oratory. But throwing his own heart into it, he reached the hearts of his audience, and was more than once interrupted by the vociferous applause of his admirers. He spoke of the proposed desecration of the Sabbath as urged by its abettors, mainly, on the plea of necessity, but, said he nobly, as a peroration to his powerful address—“ I know but of one necessity—the necessity of obeying the will of God." The spark was given out, and an explosion followed. It was the one heart of that great meeting speaking out its thunder in unmistakeable language. Such cheering as we have never heard before followed the enunciation of that broad and majestic principle, and we quitted the room with larger hearts and better thoughts than when we entered it. Before we left, a pamphlet was put into our hands. It was one of the Working Men's Essays on the Sabbath, and very opportune and welcome was it. The meeting had been to us "The Light of the Day;" and the "Light of the Week”* was of "The Light of the Week ;" or, the Temporal Advantages of the Sabbath considered in relation to the Working Classes, by John Younger. London. Partridge & Oakey, 1849 the same type and family. What those few moments of heart's ease had been to the dull routine of our daily duty, the Sabbath of the Lord was to the accumulated harrassments of the six intervening days. And if that Light were henceforward to become darkness, how great, how terrible would that darkness be! But we will not lose our Sabbaths-we are too poor to think of it. The theme is one near to our own hearts, and we hope, near to the hearts of all our readers. We have dwelt on it once and again with fear and yet with confidence, for we will not believe our dear old land, notwithstanding its recent leanings towards chartism, and republicanism, and continentalism, is unsound at heart. Our "Working Men" are working well, if John Younger be one of their accredited organs. "Is the time present," he asks, "or shall a time ever come, when our Scottish Cotter shall have no 'Saturday night,' in the generally-understood sense of that expression?-that night, on the evening of which he 'Collects his spades, his mattocks, and his hoes, And weary o'er the moor his course does homeward bend.' "Should such time ever come, our labourer may date his account settled with rational liberty, may sign and seal his discharge to his life's best comforts, bringing his seventh part of time to a poor account in the great market of society. Should he sell it, like his other days of life, would he thus add any increase to his year's earnings? No, our present six days of work is sufficient labor on the market; adding our seventh would not bring a shilling more of annual income, that is, supposing that unremitting labor could be sustained by human nature. "The blessings of the Sabbath are the precious gift of our earliest, our best, our latest Friend. How can we sell such, or give it for the idea of a paltry gain? Where Sabbath labor is bartered for bread or coin, it is like the sorcerer's money offered to purchase the Holy Ghost-it will perish with him. Whoso goeth out to gather manna on the Sabbath shall find none." • See our volume for 1848, pp. 468 and 500. |