servation that our ship's company have been able to make, strictly and most conspicuously a Christian people. The description I have given of a Sabbath here, will convey some idea of the manner in which that and other external observances of Christianity are regarded. To it I may add, what I then omitted, that not a canoe-unless it might have been some one or two bringing their proprietors to Church-was seen upon the water, nor a single instance observed of labour or amusement. Forty of our crew had liberty on shore on the afternoon of that day; and the report I overheard one and another of them giving to their fellows, was in itself sufficient to satisfy me of the utter change which had been accomplished in the whole character of the people. So punctilious were the inhabitants in their regard for the Sabbath, that the seamen sought in Not even a vain to purchase any thing whatever. water melon or a banana could be obtained, except as a gift of hospitality. No rude crowd gathered round, as they sauntered from place to place. The men treated them with civility when they came to their houses; but the women, universally, with such distance, by withdrawing from the places where they were, and by seeking security in the bosoms of their families, from any familiarity that might have been offered, that no one, so far as I can learn, has it in his power to report that he met with a single instance of licentiousness at Byron's Bay. The force of this evidence of reformation will be best understood by those who have known what the character of the intercourse of shipping with its inhabitants, as well as those of every other part of the Sandwich Islands, even within a few years, has been; and, by such, it will be acknowledged as one which the most sanguine believers in the success of the mission never expected to find so early as the year 1829. Along the whole coast, no noisy drum of heathenish carousal, no rude song of obscenity is now heard, but, in their place, the hum of the crowded school, the voice of thanksgiving and prayer, and, not unfrequently, the chaunting of the morning and the evening hymn. Extracted from "A Visit to the South Seas," by the Rev. C. S. Stewart, A. M. THE AGE OF THE EARTH. BY THE REV. WILLIAM PATRICK. THE chronometers mentioned in my last paper are not. ex The rock over which the waters of the Niagara pass, in flowing from Lake Erie to Lake Ontario, consists of limestone and shale, and by the blasts of wind, charged with spray, which rise out of the pool into which this enormous cascade is projected strike against the shale beds, so that their disintegration is constant, and the superincumbent projecting limestone being left without a foundation falls from time to Mr Lyell who, as time in immense rocky masses. already stated, refers all the changes which have taken place on the earth's surface to "causes now in operation," states that the recession of the falls has been at the rate of fifty yards in forty years, and, therefore, a little more than three feet, on an average, in each year. "If the ratio of recession," says he, "had never exceeded fifty yards in forty years, it must have required nearly ten thousand years for the excavation;" thus modestly insinuating that the falls were actually at Queenstown about ten thousand years ago, or four thousand years before the creation of the world, accordLet us see, however, what authority ing to Moses. Mr Lyell has for propounding such a doctrine. In the first place. the statement that the fall of Niagara is now receding upwards to Lake Erie at the rate of "fifty yards in forty years" is a gratuitous assertion, a mere guess at the truth, or, as it is vulgarly termed, a man of straw," which Mr Lyell has set up at his own pleasure, and is, therefore, at liberty to pull down again whenever he pleases. But the want of foundation or data for his assertion is not the only fault that the reader may find with his new geological estimate of the 64 age of the earth." He is equally erroneous in other particulars. Mr Lyell, who quotes Captain Basil Hall for his authority, makes the falls eight hundred yards wide at the verge of the precipice, viz., the American fall two hundred yards, and the horse-shoe fall six The channel below the falls tohundred yards wide. wards Queenstown, according to the same authority is one hundred and sixty yards wide. Mr Featherstonhaugh, (Monthly American Journal, No. 1.,) makes the breadth of the river at the falls about one thousand one hundred and fifty yards instead of eight hundred, and makes all the widths more considerable. But let us take Mr Lyell's own account. The old channel at Queenstown being one hundred and sixty yards wide, is exactly one-fifth the width of the present falls. Now, supposing the retrograde movement of the cataract had been in proportion to its width, then, according to Mr Lyell's estimate, it could have been only two thousand years in travelling from Queenstown to its present place; for, one hundred and sixty being a fifth of eight hundred, and allowing the present movement to be at the rate of seven miles in ten thousand years, then, being only a fifth as wide, anciently, as now, there is reason to believe that it moved at least five times as fast. But, reasoning from the data given us by Mr Featherstonhaugh, the time must have been even less than two thousand years, for it is plain that a given quantity of water, say a yard in breadth, would perform the work of excavation more than five times as rapidly as it would if spread over five yards in breadth; and yet, with such data, and such a conclusion staring him in the face, we see an able geologist and a clever man, deliberately travelling out of his way to get a stab at the Christian religion as he passes. But Mr Lyell has another theory respecting these falls. He says, "should the erosive action not be accelerated in future, it will take upwards of thirty thousand years for the falls to reach Lake Erie, (twenty-five miles distant,) to which they seem destined to arrive in the course of time, unless some earthquake changes the relative levels of the districts;" thereby intimating that there will be a great flood in America at some future period, say thirty thousand years hence, just as there have happened great floods in former times, according to what he calls the " uniformity of the order of nature." He admits that an earthquake may interfere to prevent the catastrophe, but he forgets another natural cause, to which he alludes in a different part of his work, namely, the gradual filling up of Lake Erie by the sludge or detritus which its waters hold in solution, and are rapidly depositing at the bottom, or in the bed of the lake, from whence the Niagara flows. But if the waters of this mighty river have hewn out for themselves a passage in the solid rock, seven miles in length, in ten thousand years, surely this same sludge or detritus, already alluded to, were it to accumulate, at the same rate, as at present for twice that period, or twenty thousand years, would, as Mr Lyell conjectures, fill up the lake and convert the whole of its surface into a solid plain; but how a "great deluge" should happen to issue from the lake ten thousand years after that event does not so well appear. But, independently of this oversight, no person of the least reflection, whether geologist or not, would, for a moment, believe that a lake formed like a dish, and surrounded on all sides by solid limestone rocks, ninety feet thick, as Erie is, could be drained to the bottom in a few hours by the action of its own waters. Suppose the cataract of Niagara now at the outlet of Lake Erie, and moving into it at the rate of fifty yards in forty years, or little more than a yard per year, we would inquire of Mr Lyell how long a period would be consumed in draining it to the bottom, and whether the escape of its waters thus suddenly" would cause a tremendous deluge," as he asserts? Yet it is on such grounds that one of the most learned and voluminous among the recent English geologists disputes the Mosaic history of the creation and deluge, a strong proof that even men of argument on other subjects often reason in the most childish and ridiculous manner, and on grounds totally false, when they undertake to deny the truth of the Holy Scriptures. CHRISTIAN TREASURY. all my studies, let me remember the souls of men are immortal, and Christ died to redeem them. 13. Let me consecrate my sleep, and all my recreations, to God, and seek them for his sake. 14. Let me frequently ask myself, what duty, or what temptation, is now before me? 15. Let me remember, that, through the mercy of God in a Redeemer, I hope I am within a few days of heaven. 16. Let me be frequently surveying these rules, and my conduct as compared with them.-Memoirs of the Life of Dr Doddridge. Discontent.-A repining life is a lingering death. OLD AUTHOR. Firm Faith. To be pleased with God as a friend when he seems to be coming against us as an enemy; to lean upon a promise when all the ways leading to the performance of it are shut up; to rejoice in God when we have nothing left beside to rejoice in, and faith is hard put to it to call God ours; thus to cleave to God when we do not find comfort from him, this is believing indeed; to love the hand that smites, that is true grace and great grace. A noble act of faith was that "though he slay me yet will I trust in him." Job xiii. 15. "So Abraham staggered not at the promise of God through unbelief." Rom. iv. 20. He brought God's promise and faithfulness close together, and considered none of the difficulties that came between them. It was not, is this reasonable? What probability is there in that? How can these things be? But being not weak in faith, he considered not his own body now dead, neither yet the deadness of Sarah's womb, but was strong in faith, giving glory to God; he clave to him, and abode by his promise, by a way of faith and firm dependence.-HILL'S "It is well." SACRED POETRY. THE PASSAGE OF THE RED SEA. THE hour had come in Heaven's decree Enriched with Egypt's ample spoils, Rules for the Direction of my Conduct.-1. Let my first thoughts be devout and thankful. Let me rise early, immediately return God solemn thanks for the mercies of the night, devote myself to him, and beg his assistance in the intended business of the day. 2. In this and every act of devotion, let me recollect my thoughts, speak directly to him, and never give way to any thing internal or external that may divert my attention. 3. Let me set myself to the reading of the Scriptures every morning. In the first reading let me endeavour to impress my mind with a practical sense of divine things, and then use the help of commentaries: let these rules, with proper alterations, be observed every evening. 4. Never let me trifle with a book with which I have no present concern. 5. Let me never lose one minute of time, or incur unnecessary expense, that I may have the more to spend for God. 6. When I am called abroad, let me be desirous of doing good, and receiving good. Let me always have in readiness some subject of contemplation, and endeavour to improve my time by good thoughts as I go along. Let me endeavour to render myself agreeable and useful to all around me, by a tender, compassionate, friendly behaviour. Let me avoid all trifling, impertinent stories; remembering that imprudence is sin. 7. Let me use great moderation at meals, and see that I am not hypocritical in prayers and thanksgivings at them. 8. Let me never delay any thing, unless I can prove that another time will be more fit than the present, or that some other more important duty demands my immediate attention. 9. Let me be often lifting up my heart to God in the intervals of public worship. 10. Never let me enter into long schemes about future events; but, in general, refer myself to God's care. 11. Let me labour after habitual love and gratitude to God and the Redeemer. Let me practise self-denial, and never indulge in any thing that may prove a temptation to youthful lusts. Let me guard against pride and vain-glory; remembering I have all from God's hand, and I deserve the severest punishment. 12. In occurring in the hieroglyphical inscriptions The tyrant of the hardened heart, They looked of more than mortal might, All the plenitude of war. The monarch sprung from kings of old Well-beloved of Ammon; a title of the Pharaohs, frequently From Noph's proud portals to the sea Swept the gorgeous chivalry. By that wild sea's rugged coast Lay encamped the pilgrim-host. Like falcon fluttering o'er the dove, So Pharaoh, from the heights above, Purposed the work of blood and sin; For now the wanderers were shut in: Rocks precipitous and tall Formed on either hand a wall; Before, the threatening surges dashed, Hostile spears to rere-ward flashed. In that dark and fearful hour Vain were human skill and power; Man might not save them, but their cry Ascended to the throne on high. Jehovah made his mercy known, His cloudy shield was o'er them thrown, And onward, at the word conveyed, They passed, though trembling hope forbade. Pharaoh and his thronged ranks presume The power and pomp of Egypt's realm,— Well might the tribes to freedom brought Thus sang the Seer by Edom's sea We will tell of the deeds that Jehovah hath done; Omnipotent Leader! our safety we owe To thy right hand of power which inflicted the blow; How vain was the menacing splendour of war! May strive with the Ruler whose throne is in heaven; In homage before thee our voices unite; The heathen shall flee to the cave and the hold Though now in the desert as pilgrims we roam, CONTENTS.-State of Religion in the Factories.-Biographical Sketch. Mr Robert Blair, Formerly Minister at St. Andrews, Fifeshire.-The Early Protestant Church of France. No. XI. By Rev. J. G. Lorimer.-A Discourse. By Rev. R. Lorimer, LL.D.-The Hereditary and last Priestess of Pele.-The Age of the Earth. By the Rev. W. Patrick. Part III.-Christian Treasury. Extracts from Memoirs of the Life of Dr Doddridge, and Hill's "It is well," &c.--Sacred Poetry." The Passage of the Red Sea." By W. Park. Published by JOHN JOHNSTONE, 2, Hunter Square, Edinburgh; J. R. MACNAIR, & Co., 19, Glassford Street, Glasgow; JAMES NISBST & Co., HAMILTON, ADAMS, & Co., and R. GROOMBRIDGE, London; W. CURRY, Junior, & Co., Dublin; and W. M'COME, Belfast; and sold by the Booksellers and Local Agents in all the Towns and Parishes of Scotland; and in the principal Towns in England and Ireland. Subscribers in Town, will have their copies delivered at their own residences regularly, by leaving their addresses with the Publisher. Subscription (payable in advance) per quarter, of twelve weeks, Is. 6d, and the other periods in proportion THE BENEVOLENCE OF THE PRIMITIVE BY THE REV. ROBERT JAMIESON, Minister of Currie. AMONG the various features in the character of the primitive Christians, there is none that so eminently claims our admiration as their mutual love. All the details transmitted to us of their social intercourse, and of their public conduct, bespeak the lively operation of this Christian spirit. And when we read of the delightful harmony and concord that reigned in their assemblies, their ready disposition to render to every one his due, the high condescending to those of low degree, the poor giving the tribute of their respect to those whom Providence had placed in a more exalted station,—and all vying, with amiable rivalry, to promote each others happiness and welfare, we perceive the strong grounds of the proverbial observation of the heathen, "Behold how these Christians love one another!" Not only when they were small in numbers, and, meeting together almost daily, were well known to each other, did this admirable affection prevail among them, but, how widely soever they might be separated, the ardour of their love suffered no diminution; and, forgetting every other distinction in that of being the followers and friends of the Saviour, they sympathised in each others joys and sorrows. Whatever blessing one of their number had received, was a subject of lively gratitude to all; and whatever calamity had befallen a single member, spread a gloom over the whole community. Bound to each other by ties infinitely holier and dearer than any that belong to the world, they looked upon themselves as members of the same common family. Every time that they met, either in their own houses or in their public assemblies, they interchanged the kiss, as a badge of fellowship, and token of the warmest affection. Though totally unconnected by ties of consanguinity, they addressed each other, according to their respective age and sex, by the name of father, mother,* brother, sister. Though naturally separated by A Christian husband did not give the name of mother to his wife, however far advanced in life she might be. She then received the appellation of sister.- Turner's Calumnies on the Primitive Christians accounted for. VOL. III. PRICE 1d. distinction of rank and diversity of colour, nothing could cool the ardour or prevent the reciprocities of their mutual love. The knowledge of the simple fact, that any one was a follower of Jesus, changed him at once from a stranger into a friend; creating a union between them not to be described by the cold selfish friendship of the world: and to them belongs the peculiar distinction of realising a state of society which many philosophers had often delighted to picture to their fancy, and wished for in vain,-the idea of a community united by no other bond than the golden chain of universal love. One very remarkable way in which this love manifested itself, was in the care they took of their poorer brethren. Among them, as in every association of men, the needy and destitute were found. The duty of providing for these was not left to the gratuities of private individuals, whose situation gave them opportunities of ascertaining, and whose benevolence prompted them to relieve, their necessities. It devolved on the whole community of believers, who regarded it not as a burden, but a privilege, to minister to the wants of those who bore the image of Christ: and by their unwearied attentions to the discharge of this labour of love, they made the light of their liberality and benevolence so shine, as to command the admiration even of the cold and selfish heathens around them. As duly as the Sabbath returned, and as soon as they had brought their sacred duties to a close, the lists of the poor, the aged, the widow, and the orphans, were produced for consideration; and, as if each had been hastening to bring forth the fruits of faith, and to prove the sincerity of that love they had just professed to their Saviour by the abundance of their liberality to his people, they set themselves to the grateful task, with a zeal and enthusiasm, whose fresh and unabated vigour betrayed no symptoms of their having already been engaged in a lengthened service. The custom was for every one in turn to bring under public notice the case of a brother or sister, of whose necessitous circumstances he had any knowledge, and forthwith a donation was ordered out of the funds of the church, which the voluntary contributions of the faithful supplied. No strong or heart-stirring appeals were necessary to reach of ancient society, they possessed facilities of access to the domestic privacy of all classes, denied to their brethren of the other sex. And exemplary was the prudence and fidelity with which they discharged their trust. Every moment they could spare from the prior claims of their own household, the Christian matrons devoted to those errands of mercy; and while they listened to the widow's tale of other days, and her traits of the friend who had gone to his rest,—or saw the aged in their hut of poverty, bending under the weight of years,—or sat by the bedside of the afflicted, and those that were ready to die, -or found, as was frequently the case, the helpless babe, which the frigid heart of a pagan mother had exposed and forsaken in the lonely path, they provided for the wants of each, and administered the hidden source of their sympathies; no cold calculations of prudence regulated the distribution of their public alms; no fears of doubtful propriety suggested delay for the consideration of the claim; no petty jealousies as to the preference of one recommendation to another were allowed to freeze the genial current of their charity. By whomsoever the case was recommended, or in whatever circumstances the claim was made, the hand of benevolence had answered the call almost before the heart found words to express its sympathy; and with a unanimity surpassed only by their boundless love, they dealt out their supplies from the treasury of the church, whenever there was an object to receive, or a known necessity to require it. Where the poor in one place were numerous, and the brethren were unable from their limited means to afford them adequate support, they ap-appropriate comforts both for the body and the plied to some richer church in the neighbourhood, and never was it known in those days of active benevolence, that the appeal was fruitlessly made, or coldly received. Though they had poor of their own to maintain, neighbouring and foreign churches were always ready to transmit contributions in aid of the Christians in distant parts, and many and splendid are the instances on record of ministers and people, on intelligence of any pressing emergency, hastening with their treasures for the relief of those whom they had never seen, but with whom they were united by the strong ties of the same faith and hopes. Thus, when a multitude of Christian men and women in Numidia had been taken captive by a horde of neighbouring barbarians, and when the churches to which they belonged were unable to raise the sum demanded for their ransom, they sent deputies to the church that was planted in the metropolis of North Africa, and no sooner had Cyprian, who was then at the head of it, heard a statement of the distressing case, than he commenced a subscription in behalf of the unfortunate slaves, and never relaxed his indefatigable efforts, till he had collected a sum equal to eight hundred pounds sterling, which he forwarded to the Numidian Churches, together with a letter full of Christian sympathy and ten derness.* But the primitive Christians were not content with conveying their eleemosynary aid through the public channels of the church. To them it appeared a sacred duty to countenance the poor with their presence and their purse in their own homes, where they could make more minute inquiries into their wants, and tender them the comforts of Christian sympathy and counsel, which, by the brethren both of high and low degree, were more highly prized than even the open-handed benevolence that ministered to their temporal necessities. This pious office was more especially delegated to the female members of the community, as it was thought, both from the delicate nature of the embassy, and from the jealous spirit Cyprian, Epist. 60. Gibbon states the sum to have been exactly eight hundred and fifty pounds,-Decline and Fall, chap. xv.; but others make it less than that amount.-Ryan's Effects of Religion on Mankind, soul. But these were light and easy attentions compared with the duties which their charitable mission frequently imposed on them. In those days there were no public institutions for the reception of the poor, and for the medical treatment of the diseased, and as there were few or none among the heathen in private life, who ever thought of entering the abodes of poverty and sickness, and helping their neighbours,—such was the cold and unfeeling selfishness of the heathen world, the Christians were never without objects, in every form of human wretchedness, towards whom their benevolence was required. Indeed it is almost incredible to what offices the ardour of their Christian spirit led them to condescend. They, though all of them were women moving amid the comforts of domestic life, and some of them ladies of the highest rank, never inured to any kind of labour, scrupled not to perform the meanest and most servile offices, that usually devolved on the lowest menial. Not only did they sit by the bedside of the sick, conversing with and comforting them, but with their own hands prepared their victuals, and fed them-administered cordials and medicine-brought them changes of clothing-made their beds-dressed the most repulsive and putrefying ulcers-exposed themselves to the contagion of malignant distempers-swaddled the bodies of the dead, and, in short, acted in the character at once of the physician, the nurse, and the ambassador of God. Their purse and their experience were always ready, and the most exhausting and dangerous services were freely rendered by these Christian women. In process of time, however, as the Christian society extended its limits, and the victims of poverty and sickness became proportionally more numerous, the voluntary services of the matrons were found inadequate to overtake the immense field, and hence, besides the deacons and deaconesses who, at a very early period of the Church, were appointed to superintend the interests of the poor, a new class of office-bearers arose, under the name of Parabolani, whose province it was to visit and wait on the sick in malignant and Ryan's Effects of Religion, Gibbon's Decline and Fall. |