God, and for the establishment of the spiritual kingdom of our Lord and Saviour in our hearts. Yet this lengthened period is granted to few: the day of thousands is a short day, a few hours, and then "the shadow of death overtakes them; overtakes them, perhaps, before they have once thought seriously about that great work which they were sent into the world to finish.

expended. The poor, also, must discharge their duties in humility, diligence, patience, and sobriety; not repining against the dispensations of Divine Providence, but learning, with the Apostle, "in whatsoever state they are, therewith to be content." They must study to perform all their works, under a sense of the duty they own to God; and amidst their toils they must have an eye to that gracious Saviour who endured for their sakes much labour and weariness; who bore our griefs and carried our sorrows; and who, after performing his most be nevolent works, had scarcely "a place where to lay his head."

II. Our second general consideration is, the shortness of the period in which we must perform this important work. We must diligently work while it is day, for "the night cometh when no man can work."-Human life passes away in haste, and may fitly be compared to a fleeting day. "We are strangers before Thee, and sojourners, as were all our fathers: our days on earth are as a shadow, and there is none abiding." The morning of youth is ushered in with health and vigour : we pass to the meridian of manhood, and "bear the heat and burden of the day," in hopes of a long and sweet enjoyment of the fruits of our labours. But even if we are spared so long, the evening of life still draws near; the shadows of night quickly surround us; and we lie down in the grave, and "are no more seen." Many of our schemes are never accomplished; many of our works are left imperfect; our hearts fail, and our hands droop, before we can perform our numerous enterprises. Threescore years and ten are but a short space for accomplishing that work on which depends our eternal interest. It is not too long for subduing our disorderly passions, and for acquiring those virtues which will endure for ever; it is not too long for the exercise of repentance, for confirming our faith, for enlarging our charity, for glorifying

III. The third point which we proposed to consider, is, that our eternal welfare depends on the right performance of this work. The present life is the only period allotted us for securing our future felicity: it is our seed time, and, as we sow now, we shall reap hereafter. "Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation." If the work of repentance, the work of faith, and the labours of love, are not performed on earth, we cannot expect to reap the fruits of them in the world to come. In our worldly concerns we do not look for the end, if we have not used the means. The indolent, the licentious, the lovers of pleasure, the careless, and the extravagant, are not expected to reap those fruits which are the rewards of industry, frugality, and sobriety? And is eternal life, then, so slight a blessing, that God will bestow it indiscriminately on those who never seek it, and who think the pleasures of sin, which are but for a season-for a short day-of infinitely greater value than those pleasures which are at God's right hand for evermore? The Scriptures expressly declare that the impenitent, the profane, and "the workers of iniquity," shall have no share in his kingdom of glory; that "whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap; that he who soweth to the flesh, shall of the flesh reap corruption: but that he who soweth to the Spirit, shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting." There can be no repentance or conversion in the grave, where all things are forgotten; nor any availing contrition in those flames where even a

drop of water cannot be obtained to cool the tongue.

Let us, then, wisely consider in this our day, "the things which belong unto our peace," before they are for ever hidden from our eyes. "Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do," says Solomon, "do it with thy might: for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave whither thou goest." Your day of trial, your day of grace, your day of preparation for the eternal world, is short and transient. Will you, then, devote it to any object rather than to that which is your main business, your most important concern? Will you waste in frivolous amusements, or in vicious pursuits, or in anxiously caring about the things of this world, those hours on which your future happiness depends, not for a day, or a year, or a hundred years, but through those eternal ages which no tongue can number?

But perhaps you conceive that it will be sufficient to think about eternal things when the evening of life begins to draw near; that is, you will work the works of God when you can be no longer employ ed in working for yourselves, and when you have spent the best of your time in the drudgery of the world and the service of satan. You will begin the most difficult of all works when your strength is exhausted, and will prepare on a sudden to set out on an unknown voyage when your spirits are faint, and the night encompasses you about with the clouds of darkness. Fatal error! dangerous procrastination! Are you certain that you shall be preserved till old age, or that your departure out of this life may not be sudden and unexpected? Let me then exhort you, "while it is called to-day, lest any of you be hardened through the deceitfulness of sin." To-day, if ye will hear the voice of God, and the calls of your merciful Saviour, "harden not your hearts, lest he swear in his wrath that you shall never enter into his CHRIST. OBSERV. No. 254.

rest.". Be assured, that in working out your salvation, you shall not labour in vain, for a full reward shall be given you when your work is finished; not, indeed, a reward of debt, but of grace; not as the price of your labour, but as the free "gift of God, through Jesus Christ our Lord." Our exertions are ne cessary, as an appointed means; and God, in his abundant mercy, promises a gracious recompense, on account of Him through whose won-: derful work on earth, in our nature, and whose present intercession in heaven, he favourably accepts every humble penitent, every sincere believer, every worker of righteousness. "Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye stedfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord."

Tothe Editorofthe Christian Observer. IT is with singular pleasure I have perused, in your last Appendix, the cheering statements respecting the accelerated progress of the Christian cause throughout the world, contained in the numerous Reports and Proceedings, of Bible, Missionary, and other admirable institutions. Apart from the religious benefits which result from the Gospel, I could not but feel much gratification at the illustrations thus afforded of its benign influence upon the character and political institutions of mankind, as particularly alluded to in the case of the liberated Africans, the Calmuc Tartars, and the SouthSea Islanders. (See Appendix, pp. 812, 840, 841, &c.) Such effects, however, are not new, even in modern times: the Moravian Society's annals, in particular, abound with similar illustrations of the

powerful effects of the Gospel, in civilizing and humanizing heathens and savages, and superseding their barbarous laws and institutions, by the mild and holy princîples of a divinely revealed code, As

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writing. My narrative will be chiefly an itinerary; for, as I cannot consent to fabricate adventures at pleasure, I must give you the memoranda of my journal just as they occurred. I am not, however, without hopes, that if you will trace our progress with your map before you, my letter will at least convey to you a tolérable idea of an important tract of country, on the condition and future prospects of which the philanthropist, the politician, and the Christian, may speculate with considerable interest. I bargain with you before hand, to expect only a list of names and dates, of breakfastings and sleepings; so that all that you get in addition, whether in the shape of adventure or disquisition, you are to consider as pure gain.

After passing the boundary line which I have just mentioned, we were exhilarated and delighted with an extensive view, and a distant horizon, after travelling some hundred miles in a deep forest, almost without seeing the tops of the thickly interlacing trees. In the course of the day, we passed, not without regret, from the Chickasaw nation, into the White settlements, and towards evening reached the Big Spring, a little village of log cabins, on a beautiful clear stream. Here we cut the military road from New Orleans to Nashville, and ought to have remained all night, but were anxious to make our forty miles, by proceeding six miles farther on a new road, to a house where we were told travellers were received. When we arrived there, however, after dark, we found we had been misinformed, as it was the residence of rather a genteel family, and there seemed to be a party there. The gentleman said something about house room; but not repeating it, or pressing us, I determined to proceed two miles farther, where he stated they did take in travellers. After some difficulty we found the house; but the owner said we had been misinformed: indeed he had only one room for his family and guests, male and

female. I begged him to sell us some corn for our horses, and bread for ourselves, as we had not eaten since breakfast, and said we would then lie in the woods. He, however, gave us nothing more substantial than civil words, but assured us that a little farther on we should come to Col.'s, who received travellers regularly. I told him we began to be a little incredulous; but as there was no alternative, with horses tired, and at least as much disappointed as ourselves, we proceeded, not exquisitely good humoured, to the Colonel's, who was preparing to retire to bed. He said he did not receive travellers, except when, like ourselves, they were without resources; that four had just arrived in a similar situation, and that he could not give us beds, but that he would cheerfully do the best he could. He then ordered us an excellent supper, had his carriage horses turned out to give us stable room, and would have contrived to provide us a lodging; but I could not think of intruding on him, and insisted on lying out as we had done the two preceding nights. His servant made us a large fire under a tree, and we slept very soundly. His charge was moderate: and you will perhaps be surprised that he made any charge at all; but in these newly settled countries, it is the custom for almost every family to receive travellers, and to make a charge, this being, in many cases, the only way of disposing of the surplus of their Indian corn. The few families, however, on this road, seemed not to like the plan, and to be afraid of making a beginning, lest they should be overrun, and our Colonel shared in these feelings, though too warm-hearted to turn a stranger from his doors at night. In the state of Mississippi towards Natchez,strangers are received generally without charge; but this custom, of which we have heard so much, is disappearing fast, and is, in fact, congenial only with a particular stage of society. Where houses are thinly scattered and there is too little travelling to af

ford encouragement to an inn, strangers may be taken in either with or without charge; and the latter may frequently be incompatible with the circumstances, though agreeable to the wishes, of the owner. In this situation, persons are obliged to keep houses of entertainment in self-defence, however much the practice may infringe on their family comfort, and a habit will be acquired of expecting admission into private houses, even when necessity can be no longer pleaded. There is something pleasing enough in the reflection, that every house on the road is open to you as your home; but on the other hand, it is neither agreeable nor desirable for families to feel that their retirement may be broken in upon, at any hour, by any noisy fellows who happen to be passing by. Judge who lives near Point Coupée, told us that he has adopted an excellent plan: he has had an inn opened near his house, since the road has been more generally travelled, and he sends his servants there with all strangers who beat up his quarters, with orders to defray the expenses of those who are not evidently in a situation to do it for themselves.

We breakfasted the following morning at the house of a very respectable couple, who had removed from Virginia. We were now in lands lately ceded by the Indians, and sold, I think, only in February, 1818. They have been settled less than two years; yet within a few miles of the house, there were no less than five schools, and four places of worship. In the course of the day we crossed the Tennessee river, just above the shoals: it was half a mile broad, overhung with beautiful trees, and studded with wooded islands. Where it expanded toward the shoals, it reminded me very much of our Cumberland lakes. Steam-boats come up from New Orleans to the shoals. We took up our abode for the night a few miles on the other side, at a prosperous looking farm, which, a year and a

half since, was a wilderness. The landlord is an intelligent active man, from Virginia, who keeps his carriage. Near the house he had one field, of one hundred acres in Indian corn, and another of one hundred in cotton: he cut down the first trees in January, 1819, and last year had a small crop of cotton and Indian corn. The husbandry of both would generally do credit to our first-rate farmers; and Indian corn is far the most beautiful crop I ever saw. I was surprised at the rapidity with which the new lands have been brought into cultivation. The fields are generally from eighty to one hundred and twenty acres in extent, cleared of a fair proportion of their timber, and the remainder girdled. The land is remarkably good, sometimes producing one hundred bushels of Indian corn per acre, though fifty insome States is a large crop. Our host told me, that he has only to cultivate half the land for his family supply of Indian corn, which he required in Virginia; and it grows so much more rapidly in its early stages, that it renders far less labour necessary. Money is extremely scarce throughout the country, and hardly to be raised at all. Lands which sold at the public sales at 30 cents. would not bring 15 in many instances and many are abandoning the idea of paying the second instalment, satisfied that they shall save money, by forfeiting the one-twentieth earnest, and the first instalment of one-fourth, and buying their own or other forfeited lands at public sales. Great exertions are making to induce Government to remit part of the price.

Nothing can appear more delightful and independent than the situation of those who are comfortably settled on their new lands. Surrounded by beautiful woods, and cultivating the richest soils, they raise almost every thing they want with little labour. Many make their own cotton and woollen clothes, from cotton grown, and sheep reared, by themselves, and their own soap,