THE

Christian Examiner.

VOL. IV.] November and December, 1827. [No. VI.

Poetry.

ON THE CLOSE OF THE YEAR.

2

ANOTHER year! another year!

The unceasing rush of time sweeps on ;
Whelmed in its surges, disappear

Man's joys and hopes, for ever gone.

Oh no! forbear that idle tale;

The hour demands another strain;
Demands high thoughts that cannot quail,
And strength to conquer and obtain.

'Tis midnight-from the dark blue sky,
The stars which now look down on earth,

Have seen ten thousand centuries fly,
And give to countless changes birth.

Oh! what concerns it him, whose way
Lies upward to the immortal dead,
That a few hairs are turning grey,

Or one more year of life has fled.

Swift years! but teach me how to bear,
To feel, and act, with strength and skill;
To reason wisely, nobly dare,

And speed your courses as ye will.

When life's meridian toils are done,

How 'calm, how rich, the twilight glow! The morning twilight of a sun,

That shines not here-on things below.

But sorrow, sickness, death-the pain

To leave, or lose, wife, children, friends What then? Shall we not meet again, Where parting comes not, sorrow ends?

The fondness of a parent's care,

The changeless trust that woman gives, The smile of childhood-it is there,

That all we love in them, still lives.

Press onward through each varying hour;
Let no weak fears thy course delay;
Immortal being! feel thy power;

Pursue thy bright and endless way.

THE VOICES OF THE DEAD.

On! there are moments when the cares of life
Press on the wearied spirit; when the heart
Is fainting in the conflict, and the crown,
The bright, immortal crown for which we strive,
Shines dimly through the gathering mists of earth.
Then, Voices of the Dead! sweet, solemn Voices!
How have I heard ye, in my inmost soul!
Voices of those, who while they walked on earth,
Were linked unto my spirit, by the ties

Of pure affection-love more strong than death!—
Ye cry, Frail child of earth! tried, tempted one!

Shrink not! despond not! strive as we have striven
In the stern conflict-yet a little while,
And thou shalt be as we are-thou shalt know
How far the recompense transcends the toil.'

Sweet sister! thou wert parted from my side,
Ere yet one shade had dimmed thy loveliness-
While still the holy light of innocence
Was radiant round thee-thou hast past away,
In purity unsullied, to his bosom,

Who in his love, said, 'Suffer little children
To come unto me, and forbid them not.'
Mine only sister! thou art calling me-
By all a sister's love, by every hope

Which withered at thy tomb to bloom in heaven-
To that bright home, where all the severed links
Of the dear household band again shall join,
Nor through eternity the silver chain

Of purity, and love, and peace, be broken.

Friend of my youth! how lately in thy beauty

And gladness, thou wert with me! Life's young flowers
Were budding round us;-now, my lips have pressed
Their last, sad kiss upon thy pale, calm brow,
And the delight of many eyes is hid

In the dark house of death. My friend! my friend!— "Tis thy sweet voice is pleading-shall the hope, Which tinged, as with a ray of heavenly light,

The clouds which gathered round the parting hour-
The blessed hope of meeting thee again,
Where death is not, be lightly cast away?

My mother! O my mother! thoughts of thee
Come o'er my spirit, like the dews of heaven
Upon the fainting flowers. Best beloved
Of all the dear departed! to thy child
Thine image rises, in thy mournful sweetness,
And touching beauty, fading from the earth.
I hear thy voice as when I knelt before thee,
And thou didst lay thy hand upon my head,
And raise thy tearful eyes to heaven in prayer
To Him, who though the mother leave her child,
Will not forsake the orphan. Thy full soul
Was poured in supplication, dying saint!
Wert thou not heard? surely thou wert! by Him,
Who loving thee, hath called thee to himself!
Surely thou wert!--even now that voice of prayer
Is floating round me, breathing hope and peace.

Thy God has been my God-thy trust, my trust— •
His goodness faileth not-Oh! may he grant,
That yet again the mother with her child
May bow to worship Him, the merciful,
In that bright temple where no tone of sorrow
Is mingling in the rapturous burst of praise!

A.

Review.

ART. XV.-1. Seasonable Thoughts on the State of Religion in New England;-Faithfully pointing out the Things of a Bad and Dangerous Tendency in the Late and Present Religious Appearances in the Land, &c. By CHARLES CHAUNCY, D. D. Boston, 1743.

2. The Christian History, containing Accounts of the Revival and Propagation of Religion in Great Britain and America. For the years 1743 and 1744. [Edited by THOMAS PRINCE, Jun. A. B.] 2 vols. Boston.

THOUGH We intend hereafter to go into a full discussion of the principles on which revivals of religion are to be explained, we do not think that the prevailing errors on this subject are so likely to be corrected by general reasonings, however conclusive to an unprejudiced mind, as by a plain and unvarnished statement of facts. It is easy to deny general reasonings, or cast suspicion on them; or if a man's understanding is convinced by them, it is easy to call it his carnal understanding, and then conviction itself will go for nothing; but it is not quite so easy to dispose of stubborn facts, considered as illustrating the origin and tendency of the excitements in question. Besides, most of the disputable points respecting revivals, are matters of experiment, and to be decided by fair experiment; but as far as the experiment has been tried, the public have been abused to such a degree by hearing one side only, that, in the present state of their information in regard to facts, it is hardly possible for them to make up a correct opinion on the subject. There is also a manifest advantage in going back to a revival which took place many years

ago, as it may be presumed that we can speak of the transactions which attended it with less prejudice on this account; and as it enables us to contemplate in one view its immediate and its remote consequences, the life and promise of its opening scenes, and the final issue, so that we are prepared to judge, whether, on the whole, the great interests of religion were advanced, or retarded.

The history of New England, beginning with Mrs Hutchinson, contains many accounts of local, and sometimes considerably extensive excitements on the subject of religion, resembling in many respects the revivals of the present day; but being generally discountenanced by the more sober and judicious part of the community, they soon died away. limits in this review will confine us to some notice of the great revival under Whitefield, commonly known by the name of the NEW LIGHTS, and the awakenings in different places by which it was immediately preceded and introduced.

Our

One of the most remarkable of these took place in New Milford, in Connecticut, and, like most similar excitements, promised well in the beginning, but ended in a painful and mortifying disappointment of the real friends of religion. The facts are given in a letter from the clergyman of the place, published by Dr Chauncy.

'Some time in the year 1726 there appeared a flaming zeal for religion, among a number of our people; the occasion of which, as was said, was the dying counsel of a loose young man to his companions. They set up private meetings, which they carried on by praying, reading good books, singing, &c. The meetings were chiefly of the younger sort of people; of children about five or six years of age, and so upwards to about twenty one, or two; and there were among them two or three of thirty years, or more, though they were mainly of the more youngerly sort. There seemed to appear so much of a spirit of real religion among them, that we were greatly encouraged with the hope, that true Christianity was revived among us; and we were strengthened in this hope by their abundant zeal and warmth in religious things, which was as great as you may any where behold at this day. After a while, they multiplied their meetings to three or four in a week, and I myself frequently met with them, and some elder persons; and were ready to rejoice with them in the seeming appearance of religion. The town was then but small, I suppose under the number of forty families; and yet, there was such a