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List of Lectures in and near London, for January.
13. Lord's Day ev. Broad Street, The Tabernacle and Tottenham, Mr.
Mr. Hughes; Devonshire Sq. Moody, of Warwick.
Mr. Could; Hare Court, Mr. Spa Fields, Mr. Charles, of Bala.
Sion Chapel, Mr. Brown. 15. Tu. m. Broad Street, Mr. Goode. Hoxton Academy Chapel, Mr.Hordle, of ri. Wed. er. Prayer-Meeting for the Harwich, the 6th and 13th; Mr. SlatNation, Mr. Goodc's.
teric, of Chatham, the 20th and 27th.
Monthly Lectures at Manchester, 1805.
Preachers, Jan. 2.
On Erroneous Opinions in Religion. Lloyd Str. Rev. Mr. Jack Feb. 6. Excellency of the knowledge of Christ. Moseley Str. Roby Mar. 6. The Sinner's Warrant to believe in Christ. Canon Str.
Bradley The Influences of the Spirit.
Roby May 1.
Bradley knowledge. June 3. On Religious Zeal.
Jack The Christian Warfare.
Bradley Aug. 7. The almost Christian.
Roby Sept. 4. On Worldly Conformity.
Jack The Sanctification of the Sabbath.
Bradley Nov. 6. I be Tendency of Infidelity.
Jack Dec. 4. The Pleasantsess of Religion,
on making a Proficiency in Religious } Moseley Str.
Missionary Prayer Meetings in and near London, 1805.
New Court, Carey Street. Rev. Mr. Thorpe.
April 1 Stepney.
St. George's Fields.
Hackney (Well Street) Various
Rev. Mr. Jackson.
Sept. 2. Chapel Street, Sobo.
Spa Fields Chapel
Wilson Street, Finsbury Rev. Mr. Buck.
MISSIONARY COLLECTIONS, &c.
Rev. E. Charter and Congregation, Kibworth, Leicestershire
From an Anonynious Friend, as“ A Token of her Love to
All my times are in thine hand,
I the future cannot see;
Thou dost life and death command,
I would leave them both with thee! While I live, and when I die,
May I, with a conscicuce clear, On thy faithful love rely :
Welcome then my final Year! I camot of to-norrow boast,
Nor will take to-morrow's care; Father, for thy num'rous host,
Thou dost daily bread prepare! Countless mercies follow fast,
last as daily want appears ; Thou hast kept me thro' the past,
And will guide my fuiure Years!
But thox ert the same, and thy years
skall not fail. – Ps. cii. 27. ASCiExT of Days, thou lofty one
Whom finite spirits dimly see, How shall a worm approach thy throne
And offer fitting praise to thee! Oar vanish'd years and passing hours
Remind us of our swift decline : How short a space of time is ours !
What vast eternity is thine ! How floating massy worlds of light
Roll at thyword around their spheres, To form our seasons, day and night,
And measure out our fleeting years ! L'perring, through the trackless void
Their circling mazes they explore ; And shall, till by that roive destroy'd That speaks, and time shall be no
more! This solid globe shall melt away,
Dissolvid in purifying flame; Bat Thou today, and yesterday,
And evermore, art still the same! Thou placest in the human breast
A spark of immortality; A spirit that can find no rest
But in eternity with thee!
Teach me to number my days.
Ps. XC. 12.
Fount of Life, instruet me now,
Time to estimate aright, Ere beneath its weight I bow,
Wisely to improve its fight. Rapid as the ebbing stream
Rushing to the ocean near, Unsubstantial as a dream,
lo! I lose anottier Year! Empty as the flitting shades,
As the winged arrow flies, As the flow'ret blooms and fades, –
Man, unthinking lives and dies ! Fruitless cumb'rer of the ground,
I who might thy judgment fear, Still have sparing Mercy found;
I have liv'd another Year! Thou, in whom I move and live,
Make and keep me all thine own; The new name and nature give,
Turn to flesh the heart of stone! Stamp the rempant of my days
Humble, happy, and sincere; Make me live a life of praise,
If I live another Year!
Hitherto, the Lord hath helped me.
Since I have been kept
To see a New Year,
Who might have been swept
To judgment severe,
I ought to be bringing
A tribute of praise
To God, the beginning
And end of my days!
When weak as a child,
Unconscious of care,
By folly beguil'd,
Expos'd to each snare,
Thy providence guided
And guarded my youth,
And kindly provided
The lessons of truth.
Matured to strength
To choose my own way,
Alas! to what length
Thy sheep went astray!
But thou didst pursue me
With rod and with crook,
And tenderly shew me
The path I forsook !
When sold under sin,
To Satan enslav'd;
All filthy within,
Without all deprav'd, -
Thou didst in our pature
Work out our release,
Aod bring a vilc traitor
Sweet pardon and peace :
Whep Earth with its sneer
Would tempt me aside,
Or frown me to fear,
Or puff me with pride,
Thy word of correction
Both timely reprove,
Or chace my dejection
With hope tix'd above!
A stranger below,
I seek thine abode;
Yet dread as I go
To err on the road :
But still thou dost give me
Fresh strength for my day,
And never wilt leave me
To faint on the way.
When Death shall assail,
And bow me to dust,
Along the dark vale
On thee will I trust;
Thy presence can cheer me,
And banish the gloom;
For thou wilt be near me,
And bring me safe home!
The Season of the Year described - The Magazine and its Contents-Reflections
WIDE o'er the frost-bound fields, where lately wavd
The green, luxuriant ear, stern Winter spreads
His desolating sway, and pours around,
Fierce and resistless, all his stormy horrors,
Heavy the clouds hang o'er the lowring east,
Where morning lingers, as afraid to ope
Her lucid gates, and pour th' unwilling day
Upon a scene so dreary; not as late
She smil'd meck on the joyous Sun, who shone
Bright as a bridegroom issuing from his chamber,
Picas'd to describe his circuit thro' the sky:-
A sumıner's sky - unclouded, and serene.
Tears stain her face, disfigur'd and impure
With heavy-beating tempests, or obscur'd
By hoary snow, whose fleecy sbow'r falls soft
And silent, as the stealing foot of time.
So looks the morning of the new-born year,
As if she wept for follies of the past,
And call’d unthinking man to pause, and shed
Repentant sorrows o'er his closing days!
With the first glimm'rings of this op'ning year
Arise its doties -- and a various lot
Will inark cach chcquer'd life, as the pale moon
Wanes, or replenishes her changing orb;
Apd while I bail its birth, before its close
These eyes may slumber, and this body rest
With many a friend already gone before,
Still and forgotten in th' oblivious tomb.
The past demands reflection; and to aid
The solemn hour of faithful thought, behold
A Monthly Monitor * presents its page,
Chequer'd with many a truth, in huinble guise,
And fill'd with news donjestic, far remov'd
From the loud clamours of these jarring times.
While others trace, with prying eye intent,
The politics chaotic of this world,
Let me turn o'er the page of Peace: - I hate
The lines that boast a brother's woc, and tell
of thousands dying by the scourge of war;
Or, wheim'd beneath the briny wave, - cut off
In search of wealth, or service of aubition,
With all their iinperfections on their head."-
First on thc page some friendly hand inscribes
A short memorial, as a parting tribute
To the remembrance of some faithful preacher,
Who, having serv'd his day, is gone to rest.
* The Evangelical Magazine. ·
Sacoeeding Essays, on some gospel trutia,
In various style, confirm the pleasing fact
That men of diff'rent talents have one aim,
Aart, warm in the Redeemer's cause, their force
Concentrate, to support his reign against
The arries that oppose the living God,
A motley group succeeds; and the full page
Teeus with Intelligence from lands remote,
Wafted across the swelling wave; or sent
From various parts of Britain's favour'd isle !
"Tis here, with rapture and delight, we read
How Vanderkemp *, with ever-burning zea),
Amid the barb'rous tribes, proclaims the name
Or Him, the Prince of Peace, who bled and dy'd!
With an apostle's heart, he weeps amid
The desolations of the fall; and blows
The gospel-trump, whose sweet and silver sound
Invites the weary wand'rers home to God.
Nor burning sun, nor rage of man, nor fears,
Nor threats, nor death (tho' death impendl) can move
Or shake the purpose of his stedfast soul!,
From islauds slumb'ring on the hasom wide
of the South Sea +, wc sometimes hear a note
Of comfort, floating o'er the trembling wave,
That bids us hail (distant perhaps the day)
Th' approaching æra, ardently desir'd,
When the wild savage shall forget to kill;
And from the fierce unpitying eye shall fall
Some gracious drops repentant, while the tale
or love divine melts down his stony heart !
How long, O Prince of Peace and Life, delay
Thy chariot-wheels : - Break from the cloud of night,
O sacred Morn! whose noon-tide splendor oft
Has fill'd the mouth of Prophecy; and soon,
With thy mild radiance, bless th' expecting world !
Nor less the int'rest which the tale awakes
or News Domestic. Here I read with joy
The useful labours of some kindred soul,
Some fellow-student, who the hill of Science
With ne ascended, — separated now,
And distant far; my heart with fondness cicaves
To the remembrance of departed joys,
And hails th' acceptance of my Jonathan.
Sometimes the notes of Death, heavy and slow,
Break on the ear; and while the conscious heart
Beats high with pleasure as I fondly read
A brother's Ordination, the next page
Is fraught with woe: -- I learn some friend has pass'
The vale of Death, and left me all alone,
To tread, with weary steps, this Vale of Tears!
So fled thy spirit, Hunter , from this earth;
Far from thy friend thy parting sigh was breath'd !
The consolation was to me deny'd
To close thinc eyes, when Death's oppressive hand
Lay heavy on theur., and their lustre dim'd!
But oft thy hallow'l grave, – where bending stand
Genius, and Friendship, and Humanitys,
Over the ashes of their fav'rite son,-
My feet shall visit! and my flowing tears
Fall unrestrain d upon thy silent lomb!
W. B. C.
• In Africa.
The late Dr. Hunter of London-Wall, sbo died at Bristol Hot Wells.
See Beck's Elegy on the Doctor.
REFLECTIONS ON THE CONMENCEMENT OF THE YEAR
Now have the winged monitors of Time,
Revolving Seasons, run their ample round,
And clos'd the year: - clos'd not in vain to them
Who, as the fieeting moments pass'd away,
Watch'd and improv'd to their cternal gain
The sliding treasure! But, ah! - my muse,
To think of those who lost in Pleasure's train,
Unhecded let the year steal silent on;
Nor to Reflection's voice e'er lent an ear!
Be wisc, ye sons of Folly, slaves of Mirth,
Attend that voice which, from the flight of time,
Aloin proclaims, “ To meet thy God prepare !"-
Ilow many changes one short year produces !
Numbers, who at the dawn of this, enjoy'd
Prosperity's fair smile, and bless'd their lot,
Nor fear'd reverse, - tecl now, the iron hand
of stern Adversity; and pinc with want
And pain midst mortal ills, - a frightful band !
Others, who sank'd as low in Misery's vale,
Nor hop'd for better days, -
5,- now rais'd to taste
Barth's richest blessings į and enjoy, midst smiles
And laughing friends around, the op'ning year!
Nor these alone ;-empires their changes feel.
Happy for Britain, still ber God safe keeps
Her from Oppression's cruel grasp! And may
He stal preserve, while tyrants frown in vain!
Shook by Time's hand, the stately edifice,
That long defy'd the wint'ry blast, nods from
Its eintre, and, with hideous ruin, threatens
All below it. The solid mountain, and
T'he decp-fixt rock, that rears its head aloft
Amid the bellowing waves, stand not unmark'd.
Mortals, who feel Time's desolating sway!
My heart in sorrow blecds, as o'er Death's register
I cast my eye: - Some, torn from life ere they
To life attain'd; others, snatch'd froin the bloom
Or lealth and smiling friends, and partner dear,
To mingle with the solitary dead!
Statesmen, and beroes, anul the pious man
Whose sole auhition was to pleasc his God,
Cail'd from Life's busy shining scenes they sleep,
And, undistinguish’d, fcast the greedy worin !
But why, o'er human frailty do I weep?
Wly heaves the bursting sigh at the review
or that wide devastation which prevails
Oer all the works of inan and face of Nature ?
It must be so, my soul. Heav'n has decreed,
That all things here below shall have an end !
Yes, I must soon — (ah! who can tell how soon »
On adi terrestrial objects close my eyes,
An in the clay-wid grave forgoiten lie!
s'esus, O save me in the solemn hour
Of Death! If savd by thee, I cannot lie
Long vanquish'd! Atiny call the rending earth
Shall yield me from her seeming womb, uprais'd
To live and reign in happiness complete !
When lie who nuoves the circling seasons round,
Shail stop the wheds of Time, and bid them roll no more!
Prix!cd ks G. AULD, Greville Street, London.