True religion consists in the knowledge of God, of ourselves, and of the duties we owe to society in general. "This is life eternal, to know thee the only true God and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent." It consists in knowing, loving, and serving God. "Whom have I in heaven but thee; and there is none upon earth that I desire beside thee." "His servants shall serve him, and they shall see his face; and his name shall be on their foreheads.” Religion, therefore, is not founded on attachment to a party, or adherence to a particular creed; much less does it consist in the application of water to the body, by sprinkling or otherwise, or in the participation of the bread and wine at the Lord's table. It is the consecration of the heart to God-a separation from the world —a cleaving wholly unto the Lord.

True religion is manifested by sincere devotion, repentance and sorrow for sin, with a resolution to avoid all iniquity. Its influence on the temper and disposition will be marked by meekness, mildness, gentleness. Humility is a striking trait in the character of a disciple. What can be more opposed to the spirit of the Gospel than a proud haughty demeanour? He must be altogether infatuated, who imagines that the advantages of learning, the acquisition of wealth, or the attainment of honors, confer upon him a right to lord it over his brethren, or to treat with indifference and contempt those whom he considers as his inferiors. Every man has his place, and in his place is an important character; because he occupies the station which the wisdom of God has assigned to him. The depravity of the heart; the boundless mercy of God will ever teach us humility. Who can be proud when he reflects that by nature he is unholy and unprofitable, and consequently unworthy of the Divine favor? Who can be proud that reflects upon his extensive and eternal obligations to free unmerited grace?" What hast thou that thou hast not received? Who maketh thee to differ from another?"

True religion leads to entire dependance upon God. His promises are the Christian's support; His providence, his guide; His spirit, his instructer; His word, his teacher. Under all the crosses, afflictions, and cares of life, God is his refuge and strength. To him he looks when the cloud rests upon his way, darkens his prospect, and conceals his path. When the storm rages, and the tempest appears winged with destruction, it is the privilege of the

Christian to regard the superintendance of God; to be still, and know that he is God, always at hand to watch over his children, and to preserve them from evil. Happy is the believer who can commit himself and all his concerns, his life and health, his character and reputation, his hopes and prospects, his near and dear connections, his soul and spirit, to Him that has power to help, compassion to pity, grace to pardon, righteousness to justify;

Whose promise is yea and amen,

And never was forfeited yet.

True religion shines in the night of adversity; it is a bright luminous star amidst the surrounding gloom, upon which the Christian pilgrim gazes with delight; his spirits cheered, his joys restored. True religion is the helm by which our course is regulated while sailing on the ocean of life; it is a beacon to warn us of approaching danger; it is a light-house to guide us into the desired haven.

But religion never appears more lovely than when it commiserates and relieves the fatherless and the widow. What more interesting than an orphan? Cast upon the wide world, friendless and forlorn, destitute of a father's care, a mother's tenderness, and exposed to want, to misery, and destitution, left to pursue his own course, and pursued by every species of temptation, he cries, "None careth for my soul!

Look at yonder widow? She has lost the friend of her youth, the comforter in her sorrows. Bereaved of her husband, she is bereaved! At the recollection of him, the involuntary tear bedews her cheek, and her bosom heaves the mournful sigh. Solitary and cheerless, she recalls departed hours—hours replete with bliss ; now exchanged for lamentation and woe. She looks around her for some to sooth her perturbed spirits-but looks in vain. Few pity, many blame her, and she is left to struggle with poverty, affliction, and neglect. These are the objects that demand attention—the fatherless and the widow; objects commended to our notice by Him who censures the conduct of those who "judge not the fatherless, neither does the cause of the widow come before them."

True religion influences its possessors to a holy and godly life; to live unspotted from the world, which contains so much that is impure and defiling. What haunts of dissipation, what licentious sentiments are there! The theatre, the gaming table, the purlieus of unchastity, the lure of covetousness, the lips of impurity, the

attractions of fashion, ever changing, ever new; these, and numerous others, decoy the young and inexperienced! and, alas! frequently with success. Young reader! keep thyself pure; and beg of God to keep thee unspotted from the world. Consider the happiness connected with a life of devotedness to Him, who has prepared for them that love him, a revenue of present enjoyment, and a harvest of eternal bliss, in regions infinitely more fertile than the soil of paradise; regions where the rose never decays, where the summer never ends, where the sun never goes down--but where God is the light and the glory and the joy. Penryn.

R. C.

CRUELTIES IN A CHRISTIAN LAND.

WE are generally averse to such details as the following, unless they are connected with those appeals which ought always to arise out of them. But as the knowledge of a disease is half its cure, we think it well, occasionally to acquaint our young readers with some of those enormities under which a land usually designated Christian, is still mourning. They ought not to forget, that the reproach attaching to the brutal practices detailed below, attaches to each and all of them, so long as they continue directly or indirectly to countenance such exhibitions, and should lose no time therefore in making a decided stand against these cruelties, and thus avoiding the very appearance of evil. The painful narrative is from the " Elysium of Animals," and is put forth as

THE PLEA OF THE DANCING BEAR.

"ALTHOUGH the greater portion of my wretched existence upon earth was spent in England, Lapland was the beloved country of my nativity, where, amongst interminable forests and romantic solitudes, I spent my early youth in the full and vigorous enjoyment of liberty, until by the treachery of man, the common persecutor of all living creatures within his power, I was betrayed into a pit-fall, so ingeniously contrived as to lull all suspicion, and to baffle all attempts to escape. The object was to take me alive, and to sell me to the captain of an English ship which used occasionally to trade to my native country. It is but justice to the Laplanders to admit, that although necessity compels them to

hunt down my species to satisfy the cravings of nature, and to shelter their bodies from the inclemency of the weather, they are seldom guilty of any wanton cruelty to the animals within their power.

"Soon after my capture the English vessel bore me for ever away from the dear land of my sires; and from that moment my life was almost one uninterrupted scene of persecution and misery. Upon my arrival in England I was sold to an itinerant showman, who immediately set about the work of my education. The first accomplishment I was taught was dancing: and the mode by which the object was effected shows that man is a thorough adept in the art of ingeniously tormenting. I was trained in a small room, the floor of which was made of plates of iron, which being heated by fires from below, obliged me to raise my feet alternately, to avoid being severely burned. Whilst this process was going on, my odious dancing-master would play a particular air upon the pipe and tabor, until at length, by dint of painful association, I would begin to caper whenever I heard that dismal tune, which was the never-failing signal to torture me. With a heavy heart and a sulky spirit I performed my unnatural gambols; -if I was for a moment refractory, the hot irons soon reminded me that it was my best policy to dance with apparent good will, whenever I heard the summons of the detested pipe and tabor.

"Besides being thus compelled to appear lively and frisky when I was broken in spirit, and often so fatigued that I could scarcely stand, I was occasionally baited by fierce dogs, encouraged to attack me whilst I was secured to a strong post firmly fixed in the ground to prevent me from doing any mischief to the human ruffians around me. Notwithstanding these disadvantages, I often inflicted a severe retaliation upon my antagonists, by squeezing them to death with my fore legs. I suffered dreadfully, however, in my turn, having, in the course of these savage contests, had one of my eyes torn out of the socket, whilst my whole body was lacerated with scars and gashes, which I bore about me to the hour of my death.

"There was another species of torture to which I was occasionally subjected, which I must not omit to mention, as additional evidence of the lamentable depravity of wretches who boast of the exclusive possession of the reasoning faculty. Whilst chained to my post by a very short tether, the unfeeling spectators, on the

payment of a few pence, were allowed to trundle a wheelbarrow at my head, with all their force: if I failed to parry the blow with my paws, the wheel, which was sharpened for the express purpose, would inflict deep cuts upon my face or head, when the two-legged fiends around would set up hideous screams of delight.

"At length, after a few years of such inhuman treatment as I have described, having become blind, and so feeble that I could afford no further sport to the ruffian mob, my selfish master, in order to save the expense of the scanty food he was in the habit of doling out to me, was on the point of cutting my throat, when a person, who was passing by at the time, took compassion on me, (for all men are not alike depraved,) purchased me from my inhuman master, and led me home with him, where I was comfortably lodged and well fed; but his humane attention was all in vain; in a few weeks the welcome hand of death terminated my earthly pilgrimage."

We had hoped that such cruelties were no longer known in this country. But certain Sports of the kind were announced, some time since, to be held at the wakes at Barton, a place about four miles from Manchester. The following was a literal copy of part of the Barton bill of fare, printed by order of the stewards, and published in the first volume of the Voice of Humanity, p. 50:— "At the house of Miss Alice Cottam, sign of the King's Arms, near Eccles, August 28, 1830.-A. C. with great pleasure informs her friends and the public in general, that she has, at a considerable expense, engaged"—what? a band of music, or a set of dancers, or a brilliant display of fireworks? No::-" has engaged an excellent BULL-a BEAR-and a BADGER, for the gratification of those who may favour her with their company. The bull will be baited three times a day, viz. half-past nine in the morning, half-past one in the afternoon, and at five in the evening, every day during the wakes. The bear will be baited at eleven in the forenoon, and three in the afternoon. The badger will be baited every evening. The bull, bear, and badger will be baited on Saturday night previous, to commence at six o'clock precisely, subject to such conditions as shall be then and there produced.”— Let the assembly listen to what follows:-"The whole is so arranged as to form a never-failing source of amusement! By order of the stewards. God save the King."