Page images
PDF
EPUB

31 12

3

[ocr errors]

TO

2

[ocr errors]

5 8 6

2

[ocr errors]

712

9 0

Rev. Mr. Moseley and Congregation, Hanley, Staffordshire

25 J. Small and Congregation, Axminster Additional Collections in Sussex, by Mess. Hamilton and Buck Colleclions made in the Counties of Cambridge, Huntingdon, Bedford, Bucks,

and Hertford, by Rev. Mr. Frey. Rev. T. Hopkins and Congregation, Linton T. Towne and ditto, Royston

17 3
Friends at Waterbeach
Rev. Mr. Harris and Congregation, Cambridge

43 4 1
Inclosed in a Letter, addressed to Mr. Frey, at Cambridge
Rev. T. Tall and Coygregation, Swavesay
C. Feary and ditto, Bluntisham

17 3 Mr. 'Scott and ditto, Godınanchester

5 !5 J.G. Panting and ditto, St. Ive's J. Nicholls and ditto, Kimboiton

9 16 7 Congregation at Gamlingay

3 3 Rev. Mr. Castleden and Cong. Woburn, Bedfordshire 4 14 J. Hoppus and Coog. Yardley

7 Mr. Washbuurn and Congregation, Wellingborough

22 16 J. Renals and ditto,

ditto

57 II Mr. Hillyard and ditto, Olrey

19 0 C. Masline and ditto, tler ford

14 II

235 17 7 W. B, The Legacy of Mr. B. Coles, inserted in the Magazine for last Month,

ought to have stood as below, the Executors paid the Duty: Legacy of Mr. B. Coles, late of Homerton, deceasel, by

Rev. W. Goode, Ą. M. one of the Executors

[ocr errors]

19 16

I 2

I

3 O

I

[ocr errors]

List of Lectures, &c. in and near London, for February.

1. Lord's Day Ev. Broad Str. Mr.

Collison ; Hare Court, Mr. W.

Smith ; Peter Str. Dr. Duncan, 2. Mon. Ev. Missionary Prayer-Meet

ing, Jewry Strect. 3. Tr. M. Broad St. Mr. Goode. 4. Wed. Ev. Prayer Meeting for the

Nation, at Mr. Dan. Taylor's,

Whitechapel. 5. Th. M. Monthly Meeting (Indep.)

at Ar. G. Clayton's, Walworih, Mr. Jennings to preach. * A due

Regard to the Olices of Chrișt,&c. Ev. Fetter Lane, Mr. Stollery. The Miracles of Christ.

Iverrey ; Orange Str. Mr. Burder;

Chapel Str. Mr. Greig. 17. Tu. Ml. Broad Str. Mr. Goode. 18. Wed. Ev. Prayer-Meeting for the

Nation, at Mr.Hutchings's, Tooieg

Street. 19. Th. M. Monthly Meeting (Bapt.)

at Mr. Buiton's, Dean Str. Mr. Coxhead to preach. The Law

established by the Gospel. Ev. Fetter Lane, Mr. Austio. --Jus

tification, as stated by St. James.

8. Lord's Day Ev. Chapel Str. Mr.

Stollery; Palace Str. Mr. Greig;
Barbican, Mr. Frey; Orange Str.
Mr. Townsend ; Peter Str, Mr.

Ferris ; Hare Ct. Mr. J. Thomas. 9. Mon. Ev. Prayer Meeting for the

Nation, $arry Chapel. 10. Tu. M. Broad St. Mr. Ford. 11. Wed. Ev. Prayer Meeting for the

Nation, at Mr. Wall's, Moorfields. 12. Th. Ew. Feiter Lane, Mr. Nicol.

Isaiah's Vision.

22. Lord's DAY Ev. Broad Str. Dr.

Rippon ; Hare Crt. Mr. Frey;
Barbican, Mr. Knight; Palace St.
Mr. Dunn; Peter Str. Mr. Nicol-

soa; Chapel St. Mr. Brooksbank.
24. T'u, M. Broad St. Mr. Ford.
25. Wed,(Fast DAY)Ev. Prayer-Meet-

ing for the Nation, at Mr. J. Clay

ton's, Camomile Street. 26. Th. Ev. Fetter Lane, Mr. Colli.

Faith exemplifieil. 27. Frid. Ev. Lecture to Young Per

sons, at Mr. Stollery's, Chapel Sir, Soho, Mr. Townsend to preach.

son.

Ij. LORD's Day Ev. Broad Str. Mr.

Townsend; Barbican, Mr. Gore;
Hare Ct. Mr. Stollery; Peter
Str. Mr. Waruer; Palace Str. Mr.

MINISTERS SUPPLYING AT
Spa Fitlas, Mr. Glascott.
Sion Chapel, Mr. Walsh.
fluxton Chapel, Mr. Hudson, of West

Bromwich,

E L E G Y
On the DEATH of the late Reverend and much-lamento

JAMES MOODY, OF WARWICK.

Two famous Statesmen *, and two Heroes brave t,
Twelve circling months have summon’d to the gra ve !
Peaceful they slumber in their dusty bed,
And Britain sorrows for the mighty dead.
Nor mourns alone : The Church, her loss severe
Peeply deplores, and renders tear for tear!

If polish'd manners, and if taste refin’d, -
If ardent piety aná temper kind,
If vig'rous intellect and manly sense,
If ready wit and graceful eloquence,
An ample heart, for steady friendship forin'd,
A soul, with ev'ry gen'rous passion warm'd,
Can win regard, or claim a sigh from yoy,
That sigh to MOODY, that regard is due'!

Lately, the Man of God exalted stood,
Directing thousands to the Saviour's blood :
The list ning multitudes attentive hung
With holy rapture on the preacher's tongue.
Now, low he lies! That tongue no more shall tell
The Saviour's triumphs oyer vanquish'd Hell!
No more his voice from devious ways restrain,
Nor gently sooth the weeping mourner's pain s

Small spot of earth where rest his sacred bones,
With green turf cover'd, or sepulchral stones,
Those precious relics keep, till that great day
When tombs shall burst and mountains melt away i
When sun and stars are from their orbits hurl'd,
And Chaos drives his ploughshare o'er the world,
Uprising from thy silent cold embrace,
Celestial glories shiping in his face,
High at the awful Judge's better hand,
Bright as an angel Moody then shall stand !

O much-respected, much-lamented friend,
Thy life was holy, happy was thine end!
By saints esteem'd, and e'en by, sinners blest,
And best belov'd by those who knew thee best!
In thee the Saviour's image clearly shone,
As chrystal lakes reflect the orient sun.
The wonders Grace divine perform'd in thee,
Such, and superior, may it work in me!

Oft, as thy people tread the flow'ry fields,
When blooming Summer all her beauty yields ;
Or walk liy gentle Avon's I classic stream,
While plays upon the wave the Moon's pale beam;
Or when stern Winter howls with tempests dire,
At evening sit around the blazing fire;
of former times conversing, and the way
Thro' which life's mazy chequer'd journey lay,

* Messrs. Pitt and Fox.

+ Lords Nelson and Cornwallis. # The Upper Avon passes by Warwick, washing the lofty walls of the venerable castle, from wheace it proceeds to Stratford, distant eight miles, celebrated for being the birth-place of Shakespeare.

Mhus shall one speak, and heave a heartfelt siga,
While shines the glittering tear in ev'ry eye:
" 'Twas thus, with rich experience largely fraught,
* Thus our dear pastor liv'd, and thus he taught.
“ In Fancy's ear still sounds his pleasing voice,
" The well-known accents make my heart rejoice!
" Ah! momentary joy, delusive, vain !
" He's dead! - and Mem'ry aggravates my pain;
6 Yet shall revolving time the period bring,
And soon, perhaps, when Heav'n's Almighty King
“ Shall bid me quit this tenement of clay,
" And soar 10 regions of eternal day!
6. Then shall we meet above the azure shy,
“ With glory crown'd, and immortality!
“Our friendship to advantage there renew.

« Till that bless'd hour, much-honor'd friend, - Adieu !! Wotton ander Edge.

W. W. obogotovo MY JESUS.

LINES

COMPOSED DURING ILLNESS. 'Tis true, here is another year;

ALAS! how frail our mortal frame ! And I'm permitted to appear

How near the grave we dwell! Before thee, and thy name revere, A sudden cough, a bursting vein,

My Jesus!

And we must bid farewell ! Tho' I've abus'd thy providence, My futt'ring heart,--why sink and beat Tho’long I've liv'd in indolence,

So briskly at the thought ? Yet in thy love me recompence,

Why shrink at what each mortal knows, My Jesus.

As though thou knew'st it not? O that I had a glimpse of thee ! It cannot be! Death's arrows tly O that I had but faith to see

Where'er thine eyes survey: Thy righteousuess transferr'd to me, Insatiable he gulps his meal

My Jesus !

Of thousands in a day! But, O this vile deceitful heart,

Alas! tho’ friends and neighbours die, So loth with earthly joy to part,

Death is a stranger still ; I fear will make thee hence depart, And shrinking Nature shuts her eyes

My Jesus!

Against the dreaded ill. Then since in sio I am involv'd,

We shun the dart, we shun the sight, On thee be all my sins devolvid,

We shun the place of Death, That I henceforth may be absolv'd, As tho' we never were to meet,

My Jesus.

Or to resign our breath ! Sweetly permit me to confide

But let us view this monster near, In thee alone, and none beside ;

Examine bim anew; Ever be thou my God, my Guide, And from the good man's mortal couch

My Jesus.

Take an impartial view. But here is no continued rest,

Here say, my soul, what terrors dwell: Earth is a wilderness at best;

Does sear distort his eyes ? But thou canst make me truly blest, Does he view Death as sioners do!

My Jesus!

With horrible surprize! On thee then I wili humbly call,

Calm and serene, he smiles to feel When this clay tevement shall fall,

The last dissevering pain; And joy to crown thee Lord of All,

Just as the glimm’ring flame expires, My Jesus !

He whispers, “ Death is gain !" Till then, dear Lord, thy servant keep,

Gain! yes, my soul, to die is gain, By night, by day, awake, asleep ;

To those who are prepar'd : And place me with thy dear-bought They leave their sins, and pains, and sheep,

My Jesus!

fears, Keep me dependent on thy grace,

Aud gain a rich reward! Till I shall see thee face to face, May I then seek this wond'rous gain! And be complete in thine embrace, To Jesus let me fly!

My Jesus !

O be my Saviour while I live, 'Ακοσμος. My Saviour when I die! Evesham.

J.C.

HYMN

• Quick as the slant Auroral beating ON THE NEW YEAR.

Or as the flight of Fancy's dream,

Roll on your fleeting days ; FROM the pleasant laud of Hermon, Shortly, my form' you shall assume, From the top of Mizar's height; And swelling Earth’s prolific womb Backward look with grateful pleasure ;

A grassy hillock raise. Forward look with sweet delight!

“ To conquer Death is heav'nly art; Viewing time and seasons changing, Nature, howe'er she act her part, Rolling round the circling sup,

Must to the Monarch yield: Hast’ning on the course of Nature, 'Twas He who fought on Calvary, Time, thy race will soon be run!

Ja dyiog gain'd the victory, Run then Time, let Nature hasten

And slew him on the field ! To her destin'd final end :

“ The ensigns which the vidor wears May each year, each moment, bring me Are a rough cross and bloody spears, Nearer to my much-lov'd Friend!

White wool his robe adorns ; Friend to man, the Friend of sinners, And on his bold majestic brow Friend to my once friendless soul; Sits, woven with an olive bough, He that show'd me his great mercy,

A coronet of thorns ! Bids the wheel of Nature roll.

“ His righteousness a shield can forti, Spared to aootber season,

To guard amid the angry storm, Spared to see another year,

That sweeps along the dale, May the life by thee protected,

To turn the point of arrowy show'rs Still thy bounties largely share !

From principalities and pow'rs, Bounties both of grace and goodness

Shot in the shadowy vale. That thy hands so wide bestow;

Faith in his merits arms the soul, Then my grateful thanks I'll offer, While Hope can ev'ry fear controul, Then my heart-felt love shall glow ;

And urge you in the fight :
And for ever,

Then Christian in the valley sings,
Lord, for ever

60 Death! where are thy venom'd To the world thy praise I'll show!

stings?' Chatham.

TUET A.

Puttiög his foe's to flight.
So does a firm and valiant rock
Nobly sustain the furious shock

Of irritated waves,
Sepulchre of Instruction,

Till in disorder they retire,

And seek, amid phosphoric fire, The Vocal Ashes of a departed Muse.

Unfathomable graves !”

ADJUTÒR TRE Muse is dead! her ashes speak !

on sous movie From the cold tomb the accents break

PSALM LXVIII. 4.
In soft but solemn tone ;
And virtually to all she cries,

Praise ye Him, Sun and Moon, &c. My friends, direct your wand'ring BRIGAT Şun! thou source of light and eyes

heat, To this instructive stone.

Shine to thy great Creator's praise ! " No foolish epitaph it bears,

He hung thee in the blue expanse, Nor gaudy Pride's insignia wears,

And fill'd thine orb with golden rays!' Nor gives the lie to truth;

Pale Moon! who shedd'st thy silrer But teaches in emphatic sound

beams Some lessons from beneath the ground, O'er the dark reign of şolemn Night, Alike to age and youth !

Praise him in thy nocturnal tour, ~ Reader, approach this shadowing yew,

Who thus, supplies thy sphere with And let your tears the turf bedew,

light! To mark the spoils of Death : Sparkle his praise, ye starry train, Here, prostrate lie the young and old, That spot with gold Night's sable robe, The laurels of the wise and bold, He plac'd your glitt'ring lamps on high

And e'en the poet's wreath! To shine when darkness glodins the “ As in the bright reflecting glass,

globe! Eyeing its surface when you pass, Shall Man, the noblest work of Heaveo, An image starts in view;

Forbear the thankful hymn to raise ? Tho'dark be the surrounding shades, Let gratitude inspire his heart, A mirror's light the scene pervades, To give his gracious Maker praise ! And shews a type of you.

Ilaverhill.

J. W.

THE

OR

Printed by G. AULD, Greville Street, London.

[ocr errors]
« PreviousContinue »