virtuose in face-making, and can take off admirably My Lord Pouf, whom the company never saw. He can use twelve different accents-can bark, mew, and imitate a saw. He is acquainted with the best traditions of Le Bourbonnaisse, can recite the part of Orosman, sing Le point du jour, swallow cigar smoke, and play the flagolet with his nostrils. All that I have detailed, constitutes the least of his merits. You know that the whale, the crocodile, every animal in short, has a natural enemy in some other animal, which by instinct follows, pursues, attacks, and kills it. Now, to a peaceable man the persecuting animal is the droll-fellow. His whole life is spent in embittering yours. He crushes your fingers when he shakes hands with you trips you up as you pass-conceals the object you are looking for-draws away the chair upon which you are going to sit-strews chopped horse-hair between your sheets, and locks you in when you are in a hurry to go out. Sometimes he sketches your countenance, to which he adds ass's ears, an elephant's trunk, He has and stag's antlers, and then writes your name under it. also a trick of lining the glasses of your spectacles with paper, putting poudron into your snuff, decorating your back with a paper tail, and sticking a pin upright in the seat you commonly use. the play he blows his nose during the most pathetic scene. In a crowd he pushes you, then says in an angry tone, "Pray, Sir, don't push so." He takes your arm in the street, induces you to look up, and then leads you against a heap of stones, places you under a rain spout, or makes you walk in the kennel. At SUGAR PLUMS FOR MAITLANDERS, AND FOR THOSE ALSO, WHO DO NOT BELONG TO ANY TRUNKMAKERS' SOCIETY. MANY of our readers are probably not aware that there exists, at this moment, three Fraternities in our land whose bond of union is the publication of dusty worm-eaten Records of the Past, and that their youngest brother, but perhaps at this moment the most active, has his head quarters in this city. This is no less than the MAITLAND CLUB, an association which boasts about seventy members, whose bibliomanical peculiarities and propensities have excited, if not the envy, at least the sarcasm of certain of our witty wiseacres and would-be Utilitarians. As we have ourselves rather a sort of penchant, like Lot's wife, to cast our eyes back on what the industry of such men as Scott, Thomson and Pitcairn occasionally dig out of old charter-chests, and Dutch escritoires, we have prevailed upon a gentleman connected with one of the establishments to which we have alluded, to extract, now and then, a few of the more amusing pictures of Scottish manners, from the Typographical Rarities which have been printed under the auspices of these Clubs. We have been favoured with some of his selections, and now beg leave to present a few of them, as curious interpreters of ages that are long departed. July 31, 1581. It is ordained by the haill Assembly, that every flyter convicted flyting, shall pay half mark to the poor, stand upon the Cross Head, and make public repentance for satisfaction of the kirk and party. April 16, 1582. Ordains James Sym to give the witch in the tolbooth 8 doits in the day. December 3, 1582. Whilk day the friends of William Farn, who drowned himself at the head of the South Inch, in the water of Tay, coming to the minister and elders, convened together for the time in their Revestry, and desiring licence at the assembly, to bury the said William in the Gray Friars, which is the burial appointed for the faithful that depart in the fear of God; the assembly answered with one voice, that they would not suffer him to be brought through the town in day light, neither yet to be buried amongst the faithful, in the place appointed for their burial; but ordains that he be buried in the Little Inch that is within the water, and this to have the strength of an act, to all such like persons in all time coming, and assuring all, that gif any contravene the same, the dead shall be taken up again, and the contraveners hereof shall make their repentance in the seat, and thereafter shall pay £10 to one of the deacons, that they may distribute it to the poor. May 24, 1585. It was statute and ordained, that hereafter induring the time of the plague, no banquets should be at marriages, and no persons should resort to bridals under the pain of ten pounds, to be paid by ilk one that contravenes the same; and 40 pounds to be paid by them that call more than four on the side to the banquet, or bridal, induring the pest. August 11, 1589. Whilk day Nichol [Ronaldson,] belman, being called and accused for not ringing the curfew and workman bells, at eight hours at even, and four hours in the morning, according to the custom and use; answered, that David Mar had taken away the tow to the brig of Earn. Therefore ordains Robert Anderson and James Adamson, to intimate the same to the council, to cause the said David hing up the bell tows againe, as good and sufficient as they were, when he took them down. February, 24, 1593 [1694]. Forasmeikle as sundry, both men and women, in time of preaching on the Sunday in the forenoon, rise up at the chap of eleven hours, and depart away without the blessing, or giving of thanks unto God; therefore for staying and repressing of this graat enormity in all time coming, which is very slanderous, the minister and elders ordain the visitors, both baillies and elders, to keep both the kirk doors, and suffer none to depart out of the kirk, before the blessing, except they be sick and evil at ease. December 29, 1595. Compears John Spence, who broke the Sabbath by absenting himself from the hearing of the word; as also [accused for] his unreverent behaviour to the minister and baillies being visiting the families, and therefore ordains him to be committed to ward, while he be humbled, and find caution to do his duty. April 9, 1599. Compeared James Young, [town] officer, being warned to this [day;] who being accused for profaning of the holy Sabbath, by absenting himself from the hearing of the word, both before and after noon, and being beastly drunk, persuing George M'Gregor through the streets publicly with an drawn sword, to the great dishonour of God, and slander of this congregation,-[he] confesses the same. George Horn's wife declares, that on the Sabbath was eight days, James Young, with John Murray, came to her house and craved drink, and when she refused, he drew out his sword and said he should shew her another guise, except she gave him drink; and so being boasted, and knowing the disposition of the man, she furnished drink to him while twelve hours; and when he was desired to go home to his own house, he went into a cellar, against her will, and drank while the sermon afternoon was ended, and was so beastly drunken, that he knew not what he did. The Session ordains him to come the next Sabbath to the kirk door, barefoot, and in linen clothes, and stand from the second unto the third bell, and thereafter to come to the place of public repentance, and there declare his repentance publicly, in presence of this congregation. Because that George Horn's wife, furnished drink to James Young and his companion, as she alleged against her will, and that the cause of her being at home in time of sermon was sickness, and a disease in her dad, the Sessioun desired her to declare on her conscience that it was so indeed; which she did. ORIGINAL POETRY. LAY OF THE MILL: OR THE PLEASURES OF THE PAY-NIGHT. Hey! the merry Pay-night, That night we clear the lawin score, Then Johnny plays his monkey tricks, Our neighbours, when they hear the din, Upon the merry Pay-night. The Police are a meddling pack, Then aff they march us in a raw, But Monday settles a' disputes— • Twitches. GLASGOW GOSSIP. It has been currently rumoured, that a celebrated hypochondriac on hearing of the arrival of the Cholera at Kirkintulloch, immediately deserted his residence in the old city, and established himself in an airy situation in the west end of the town; where he is now endeavouring to preserve the balance of the circulation by practising the well-known palpitation waltz. SCIENTIFIC INTELLIGENCE. LONDON ROYAL INSTITUTION. THE first evening meeting of the season is usually distinguished by the announcement of some discovery in science or the arts, which, there is good reason to expect, may have birth during a recess of more than half a year. The subject chosen for this evening's lecture was not so interesting to the general student as those we have frequently heard discussed, on similar occasions, in the theatre of this Institution; but some important information was, nevertheless, afforded, which the manufacturer may find extremely useful in the art of refining the precious metals. Mr. Brande addressed the members and their friends on a recent process for separating gold from the silver of commerce, and silver from the gold, as commonly imported. Gold, whether brought to this country in bars or in specie, generally contains a considerable quantity of silver; and silver, a minute portion of gold. old method of separating the one from the other, was by the use of nitric acid; but, that being very expensive, sulphuric acid has of late been used for the same purpose, with great advantage. The result is, that if a pound of silver contains only 3 or 4 grains of gold, the gold may be separated with pecuniary advantage. The The gold coin of this kingdom formerly contained a large portion of silver, which accounts for the light colour of the old guineas, and the sovereigns of George III. and George IV. of 1821. In the present coinage the silver is extracted, and the alloy consists entirely of copper. This process of refining gold and silver, by the use of sulphuric acid, was discovered in France some years ago, and successfully practised in that country some time before it was performed in England; because the fluctuating value of silver, with respect to gold, in our own country, rendered the operation precarious as to profit. The Professor suggested an improvement worthy the attention of the manufacturer, in devising a method of condensing certain portions of sulphurous acid, which, during this process, are suffered to escape in gas. FINE ARTS. Mr. HENRY LIVERSEEGE. It is with deep regret we record the death of this young and much admired artist, Mr. HENRY LIVERSEEGE, who died on Friday, the 13th January, aged twenty-nine years. At a very early age Mr. LiverseɛGE evinced an extraordinary love for the arts, rarely having the pencil from his hand; his designs at eleven or twelve years of age were indeed surprising. The writer of this feeble record of his genius was acquainted with him from boyhood, and remembers many of his earliest designs. LiVERSEEGE'S favourite subjects then were the wild and romantic; a lonely, unfrequented pass, for instauce, with banditti lurking about the rocks, or half concealed by the shadowy pines; or, a torch-lighted cavern, the banditti alarmed by the spectre of some murderedtra veller. It is remarkable that, until very recently, he retained his early attachment to such subjects; and his first paintings exhibited in the Manchester Royal Institution were, we believe, of this character. Mr. LIVERSEEGE had, from childhood, to contend with an infirm and delicate constitution, the greatest attention being required to preserve his life, and from the cradle health appeared to be a blessing not reserved for him but the strength denied to his frame was bestowed upon his mind; and what that mind had the power of conceiving, he could express upon the canvass with the superiority of genius. An intuitive discernment of the beautiful and the intellectual in art characterizes his later productions-his "Hamlet" and "Othello" are full of feeling and nature. What can be more supernaturally conceived than the Ghost in Hamlet, with the pale glimpses of the midnight moon lighting its crested head-the calm expression of its shadowy lineaments, and the dim outline which we vainly endeavour to trace, incorporate with the air. It is the King" the majesty of buried Denmark." And again, his Desdemona-how graceful-how affectionate; the very poetry of beauty-of beauty not too ethereal for human nature! It is LIVERSEEGE'S noblest, as it is his truest, commendation, that he sought inspiration where it is best found-at the shrine of Nature; he drank of those waters which call life, freshness and beauty into creation: it was here that he acquired the harmony and simplicity of his style-the truth and correctness of his taste, the depth, force and richness of his colour and composition; and it was here that he cultivated those talents which have thus early reflected honour upon his character. Mr. LIVERSEEGE was an extraordinary instance of a young man suddenly rising from comparative obscurity into general estimation in a few years. Until he was twenty-five his abilities were known and appreciated by his private friends only; he seemed, during the latter period of his brief life, to surpass himself; he surprised his greatest admirers: there was no gradual ascent; he appeared to pass the usual gradation of success, and spring at once to excellence; and at the moment when the first light of reputation was smiling over him -while his young heart felt the general acknowledgement of hi power, the long with-held reward of his perseverance-when, in the rich fulfilment of his early hopes, the pride of his friends and the honour of his family, he died! His ardent and sensitive spirit wore out the frail tenement it inhabited, and death crushed the promise of his genius in its brightest and most interesting hour. Mr. LIVERSEEGE was esteemed for his open and affectionate disposition; admired for his independent spirit and integrity of character; and, while we regret the loss of his great talents, we mourn for our companion and our friend. Much more remains to be known of Mr. LIVERSEEGE, which will ere long proceed from one more competent to place his character in the rank which it is destined to hold among the greatlytalented and the too early lost. Mr. LIVERSEEGE's best productions are in the collections of the Duke of Devonshire, Benjamin Hicks, Esq., and Peter Roth well, Esq., of Bolton; and William Townend, Esq. of Manchester. His last and best production, "The Recruit," is in the possession of Lawrence Fort, Esq. A noble painting, "Falstaff and Bardolph," was left unfinished upon his easel when he was thus suddenly and prematurely called from life to death-from time into eternity. THE DAY, A MORNING JOURNAL OF LITERATURE, FINE ARTS, FASHION, &c. CARPE DIEM. GLASGOW, SATURDAY, FEBRUARY, 4, 1832. ALLAN GRAHAM. "Look here upon this picture, and on this, The counterpart presentment of two brothers." SHAKESPEARE. In a late Saturday's number, we imposed upon our. selves the painful task of exhibiting, in the history of an old college acquaintance, a representation of mankind in his most odious and hateful form-that of a cold-hearted and consumate hypocrite, and, at the same time, of holding up to the abhorrence of every man, anxious for the welfare of his own offspring, or of society at large, the guilty conduct of such parents, as either by an example positively vicious, or by a neglect of the divinely-appointed means of instruction, not only fail to train up their children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, but absolutely lead them to a life of misery and wretchedness here, and of fearful destruction hereafter. We turn with pleasure from the disgusting detail, to indulge in one much more congenial to our own feelings, and, we hope, eventually, more pleasing to those of our readers. Humphrey Graham was an honest, a pious, and a hardworking woodcutter, who inhabited the Park-gate, or, as we in Scotland call it, the "Porter-lodge" of Mr. G of B, in the parish of Strathblane, about fifteen miles north of the great manufacturing city of Glasgow. His wife, who was a person of deep and unaffected piety, and far superior in intellect, as well as in knowledge, to her rustic compeers, had, from her earliest years, been a confidential servant in the family of Mr. G- to which, indeed, she was distantly related, and, in the bosom of which, she had acquired many lessons of experimental, as well as theoretical wisdom; and, when she entered into the married state, she was endowed, as the reward of her faithful and affectionate services, with the free liferent use of the aforesaid lodge, with a small garden, and grass for a cow in the adjoining paddock. derived from that simple, but sublime machine, the system of Parochial Schools. A system, for the establishment of which, as well as for many other blessings, she is mainly indebted to those noble and devoted men of old, (much traduced indeed, in modern times, but of whom the world was not worthy) many of whom bled and died in the cause of God and of religion. Over the wide extent of the civilized world, living witnesses exist, without number, to the fact, that, by this inestimable institution, the elements of literary and religious education are placed within the reach of the poorest Scotsman, and that, by its instrumentality, riches are freely distributed, of a kind far more noble and enduring, than any that have ever been known to emanate from the mines of Potosi or Golconda. The young Grahams partook largely of the benefits arising from an attendance in the Parish School of Strathblane, then taught, as has, indeed, been generally the case, throughout the whole country, by a man of considerable talents and great moral worth; and, accompanied as his tuition was, by a steady, persevering, and, what is of still greater importance, a judiciouslyconducted course of domestic instruction, in which, as might have been expected, their mother bore the principal share, the members of the family soon took the lead of their neighbours in the extent of their moral, and religious, and intellectual attainments. So much so, indeed, that, by universal consent of the rich and the poor, they were every where held up as exhibiting the very beau ideal of a Scottish peasant's family. The remark pretty generally holds good, that few families exist, of three children, or upwards, in nuinber, which do not contain one of talents considerably above the average; and this superiority has been so generally assigned to the second son, that the circumstance has become proverbial. Whatever foundation there may be in truth for these popular fancies, certain it is, that Allan, the second son and fourth child of Humphrey Graham, speedily eclipsed all the youth of his own, and the two neighbouring parishes, in the vigour and soundness of his understanding, the excellency of his principles, and the ardour and success with which he devoted himself to the acquisition of knowledge. At the age of twelve years, he was a very handsome and prepossessing boy; rather tall in stature, he was light and active in his general conformation; his nose large and inclining to the aquiline; his brow high, finely arched and expansive; his mouth rather large, exhibiting a double row of teeth of the purest enamel; his luxuriant hair was dark brown, and his fine blue eye beamed forth intelligence, benignity and love. As has already been stated, he was indefatigable in his youthful studies, and, although his progress was such as to fill his doting parents with un In due season, Humphrey's wife brought him, in a large family, that portion which, in spite of its often coming in the inverse ratio of a man's ability to maintain it, was, by persons of his rank of life, and at a time when the Malthusian doctrine on the subject had not yet been broached, considered as a very great blessing-as in the present case it turned out to be. It consisted of four sons and three daughters. As may well be supposed, the parents were very poor in their worldly circumstances, and doomed, while their family was young, to struggle with many difficulties and privations; but, wisely considering, with the apostle of old, that it is the interest, as well as the duty of man, "in whatsoever state he is placed, therewith to be content;" and, blessed with the enjoyment of health of body and peace of mind, they cheerfully laboured to furnish their children, "not with the meat that perish-speakable delight, and involuntarily to call forth toward eth" merely, but, with that also, which "endureth and abideth for ever;" and they encouraged each other in this, their "labour of love," with the hope which is, of all others, the dearest to the heart of an affectionate and christian parent, that of beholding, in their old age, their children flourishing around them, as useful and honourable members of the church of God, and of human society. No one needs to be informed of the pre-eminent advantages which the people of Scotland have, for ages, him sentiments of approbation, calculated, in ordinary circumstances, to have excited feelings of jealousy or discontent in the other members of the family, yet, such was the sweetness of his temper, and the unpretending simplicity of his manner, that his brothers and sisters cheerfully joined in the grateful theme, and unanimously yielded him the willing palm of his wellearned superiority. Even in a country place, it was impossible that merit, such as that of Allan, could long be hid, or its possessor remain in obscurity. Accordingly, the attention of Mr. Allgood, the minister of the parish, and of Mr. G-, the friend and patron of his family, was speedily called to his extraordinary claims to their encouragement, and, by their united assistance, he was, at the proper period, removed to the Grammar School of Glasgow, where, under the tuition of the learned and most amiable David Allison,* he continued to do full justice to their expectation, and to make rapid progress in his educationand, by the time he was ready for admission to the College, that most estimable man had become deeply interested in his welfare, and gave the strongest recommendations in his favour to his future teachers. Our limits forbid our following this interesting youth in his career through the next two or three years of his Academic life; suffice it to say, that, during that period, he occupied the same benches with the profligate Bill Macfarlane-pursued a course of conduct precisely the opposite of that unhappy individual-signalised himself in every branch of study to which he applied, and, with the assistance of a small bursary, obtained for him through the exertions of his steady friend Mr. G., and the profits arising from sedulously teaching at his leisure hours, he experienced the unspeakable satisfaction of contributing to the comfort of his parents, and the education of their family-and of thus, in some degree, repaying those kind offices, and that paternal care, by which he had been put in possession of all that was happy in his present lot, and all that was encouraging in his future prospects. Hitherto we have contemplated Allan Graham as a young man possessed of the most amiable dispositions of devoted attachment to his studies, and of unbounded affection to his parents. We come now to speak of him in the higher, and more interesting character, of an immortal and accountable creature, and a future Minister of the Gospel. And here, he likewise shone with brilliant and characteristic lustre. From his earliest years he had, partly through the instrumentality of those means we have already described, but chiefly by the prayers and pious counsels of a mother's love, been led to the experimental knowledge of the true God, and of his Saviour. He constantly "remembered them in the days of his youth." By his consistent conduct and spotless purity of personal character, he was greatly instrumental in reclaiming many (chiefly young persons) from the error of their way, and in confirming others in the paths of righteousness. And now, in the full maturity of his understanding, and with the advice of his friends, he resolved to devote his remaining life to the service of his God and Saviour, in the office of the ministry. His progress" through the Hall" was distinguished by all the excellencies that had adorned his previous career. And, as heretofore, he made friends of his venerable teachers and of all his cotemporaries, except those upon whose mode of living his own was a continual practical reproach. In due time he passed his trials, and was ordained a "Preacher of the Gospel." Being now relieved from the drudgery of attending public classes, he indulged more largely than heretofore, in a duty to which, for some time past, he had partially devoted himself, namely, that of visiting the poor and needy, and, at that time, very generally neglected population, of the quarter of the city in which he resided. He read with them, he prayed with them, he instructed them from the Book of Life, he counselled them in their worldly affairs, and he ministered to them, from his own slender resources, what he could afford, after answering the more natural and necessary demands The writer of this article will never forget the fatherly and affectionate conduct of this excellent man and distinguished teacher; especially when, during a fit of illness which kept his young disciple from school, he kindly came to his bedside with the present of a little book for his encouragement. upon him. His life, indeed, was a practical commentary upon his religious principles, and wholly spent in promoting the honour of God and the happiness of man. But, alas! how mysterious are the ways of Providence! In the very midst of this career of usefulness, did poor Allan Graham contract the seeds of that insidious, but fatal disease, which was, at no distant period of time, to number him with the dead, and add one more to the mighty roll of its (in many cases) early and amiable victims. The winter of 1804 was one remarkable for the depth and permanency of its snow; and disease was, consequently, very prevalent in Glasgow, and Allan proportionately busy. During the worst of the season he got repeatedly wet, and, imprudently trusting to the vigour of his constitution, he neglected to use any precaution to ward off the attacks of disease, till he was at length seized with violent inflammation, which confined him for several weeks to his room. As the summer approached, he gradually recovered strength, and, although he himself never was sanguine, his friends fondly cherished the hope of his recovery during the ensuing season; a result for which they were, if possible, the more anxious, that, in the beginning of the year 1805, an unsolicited and unanimous presentation had been made to him, of one of the churches of S―, a place then, and still famous for the soundness of its judgment in regard to ministerial qualifications. By the advice of his physicians, Allan retired to enjoy his native air in the country, and, by the importunity of his friends, although contrary to his own sense of duty, he took up his residence, for the sake of superior accommodation and comfort, in the house of Mr. D——. His consent was the more easily obtained to this arrangement, that, for many years, an attachment of the most tender and disinterested kind, had existed between him and Eliza, the second daughter of the family, a young lady in every respect worthy of him, and one to whom, had it been God's will, he had had the hope of being soon united by the most endearing of all earthly ties. Here he languished during the months of summer, experiencing all that vacillation of natural feeling which generally accompanies confirmed pulmonary consumption. Resting, however, with "the full assurance of faith" on Him who is "the Rock of ages," his mind was firm and serene. Death had no terrors for him, except as the means of his temporary separation from those earthly friends, whom he tenderly loved. Exhausted nature at length gave way, and, at the carly age of twentythree, on a beautiful morning in the beginning of autumn, his bed surrounded by his affectionate relatives and friends, and his head reclining on the bosom of his Eliza, he meekly resigned his gentle spirit into the hands of God who gave it, calling, with his latest breath, upon his blessed Redeemer to bestow every blessing, for time and for eternity, upon those beloved friends whom he had left behind him. Ir is not an uninteresting employment to observe the inconsistency of mankind, when actuated by limited views, instead of great and commanding principles. Whilst Christian Ministers, of different denominations, cannot occupy the pulpit of each other on the Sabbath day, no obstacle is presented to their doing so, on any other day of the week. Nay, even in this respect, Sabbath evening seems to be privileged, for, frequently, when sermons are appointed to be preached for charitable or other institutions, on that evening, we frequently find clergymen of the established church, preaching in dissenting chapels, and dissenting clergymen, on similar occasions, preaching in the established churches. We do not say that it ever happened, but it is self-evident, that the congregation which occupied the seats of the church or chapel in the forenoon, may possess them, also, in the evening of the Sabbath. Yet, on the former occasion, the same clergymen dare not preach to them, nor humbly supplicate mercy for the same people, who may be the lawful object of his intercession on the evening of the same Sabbath day. Yes! it is a melancholy truth, that, by the same messenger of Peace, the Gospel of glad tidings cannot be proclaimed on a Sunday forenoon, which is welcomed by all parties on a Sabbath evening. Nor has our sister church of England neglected to fence herself around, with similar laws of exclusion. An eminent Scottish divine, whose energy of character is only equalled by his soul-subduing eloquence, and whose brilliant talents illustrate and adorn the church of which he is a member, not many years ago, visited a friend in England. He found a congenial soul in the clergyman of the parish, wherein he resided. The frequent theme of their conversation was, the love of Him who came to save sinners, and often did they talk of Him by the way. Congeniality of sentiment originated liberality of feeling, and, at length, the English requested the Scottish clergyman to preach for him the following Sabbath. The offer was as freely accepted as it was generously made, and no difficulties occurred until a common friend of the parties expressed his doubts of its legality, and recommended that an inquiry should be instituted. This investigation led to the knowledge of the following facts-that, by fulfilling their intention, both of the clergymen would have been obnoxious to punishment, the one to imprisonment, the other to transportation ! Could there have been any thing in the preaching of the Scottish clergyman, worthy of such a punishment? Was not his the message of love to perishing sinners? Nay, was it not, in principle, the very same doctrine as the congregation was accustomed to hear from their own clergyman-yet form, human authority, narrow legislation obtained, aud proud man's brief authority in this, as in many other instances, might well make angels weep. Since there has been a certain accommodating feeling displayed in our city by all parties in the services of the Sabbath evenings, it would surely be a politic measure for influential men to give their attention to this subject-the propriety of christian ministers, of different denominations, occasionally exchanging pulpits as it is called, for the Sunday forenoon and afternoon services——— to remove all the obstacles which, at present, prevent it-and thus, in this respect, to acquire all the advantages of a christian union, without mooting the question of patronage, or any other subject which might afford an occasion for difference of opinion. Paul cared not, for minor differences, provided only Christ was preached, and the like spirit, we feel assured, pervades the heart of both dissenting and established clergymen-men so intimately acquainted with the writings of the great apostle. It is the peculiar nature of christian charity to increase more and more. The intercourse which such a movement would induce, could not fail to originate more liberal views, in every respect. The dissenter would not look, but in kindness, on the established clergyman, when, united by the bond of mutual intercourse, and when he found him a man ready unto every good work; and, doubtless, the established clergyman would receive with pleasure, an auxiliary so important and so well calculated to assist him. Is it too much to anticipate, that, ere long, there would be no distinction but in the name, that a mutual desire to do good, by united exertions, would prevail, and that we should behold dissenters and churchmen, as angels of mercy, going forth, hand in hand, to visit the sick and the afflicted, and then, in practice, the word sect should be unknown. When we contemplate the immense mass of population by which we are surrounded, and the very small number of clergymen who are called on to attend to its spiritual interests, when we consider that, small as the number is, it is disunited by petty differences, and thus cannot act with the greatest effect, the necessity of a "form of concord" amongst christians of all denominations seems to be especially required. In our city and vicinity, twelve parish ministers have nominally the charge of two hundred thousand souls. We are aware that the clergy are assisted by their elders, but in a large town, the secular duties of that honourable office, generally monopolizes all the time and attention of him who holds it. The exertions of the City Mission are also to be remembered, but add all these means together, and likewise what is attended to by the dissenting clergymen amongst their own flocks, and we shall find, that in their present disunited state the labourers are altogether insufficient, for the harvest-that the spiritual wants of the people are not provided for, and that, not until professing Christians meet in one, free, liberal and charitable spirit, will the strong holds of vice be effectually assailed. The Church of Rome has sometimes alluded to our endless dissensions and sects, and it would be well had she no power to allude to them; but, until pervaded by the true spirit of Christian affection, men look to principle and not to party, look to the christian church and not to the christian sect, to faith in the soul, and not to confidence in a particular church or chapel, we cannot deny that there is some cause for the accusation. Yet, enterprise and a generous spirit, if it do not remove all the distinction of names, will, at least, obviate its defects. Some intrepid mind shall yet arise, having his censer fraught with the fire of christian love, and, standing in the midst of the congregation, shall bid the plague of dissension cease. We have hitherto confined our views to the Scottish Church and Scottish Dissenters, but they embrace a much wider extent. Will our Episcopalian brethren not unite with us in a form of concord? Will they not also, strive to undo those monstrous laws which we have already alluded to, and upon the principles of which, even the Apostles themselves, would be excluded from their pulpits? Let the matter be considered. The present is a favourable opportunity; for we think we discern a greater feeling, of the importance of union amongst Christians, than has for a long time been acknowledged. We think, even in the English Church, we can trace, a spirit of conciliation becoming more and more apparent, and never were our feelings more deeply affected than by a union of funeral services, which we lately witnessed in attending the obsequies of a friend-one whose life, precepts and conduct, happily exemplified the genuine spirit of christian liberality, and who was placed in that grave from which no slumberer arises, with the united ceremonies of the Scottish and English churches. The mourning relatives met in that abode, which was no longer, to be hallowed by the presence of our friend. "The blessing" was implored by the senior clergyman present, in an earnest and highly impressive address to "Him who giveth, and who taketh away, but whose name we still desire ever to bless." After the usual interval, the other clergyman was requested to return thanks. How lingeringly did he dwell on the character of the deceased, "one whose early virtues ripened into the matured fruits of holiness and love; and, although we shall never hear that voice of kindness more, nor those steps, ever found in the way of righteousness; yet, that voice still speaketh, and those footsteps may still be traced, in the example which they afforded.” It is impossible to describe the impassioned eloquence that succeeded, and it was not without tears the power of extempore prayer was acknowledged by all present. We now proceeded to the vault where all that was earthly of the friend we loved was to be deposited. At its arched door-way we were met by the Episcopal clergyman, who, entering before us, read, as he proceeded behind the coffin, the beautiful form of prayer of the English church, for the burial of the dead. "I am the resurrection and the life; he that believeth in me, although he were dead, yet shall he live." "I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth; and, though worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God." After these words were pronounced, we entered the vault. Its hazy atmosphere was only half illumined by a single lamp, "Such as loves to fling Its light on apostolic heads, and sheds The coffin was uncovered "Man cometh up, and is cut down as a flower; he fleeth, as it were a shadow." "Earth to earth-ashes to ashes-dust to dust.” Is is unnecessary to proceed farther in the description of a scene, to which even the least susceptible could not be indifferent. But we advert to it now, because it was a movement towards that mutual accommodation, which is so much to be desired, amongst all classes of christians; and it afforded a happy comment on the genuine character of our friend, who was all things to all men, that some might be gained. "The love we deem forsaken, When friends on earth depart, In heaven again shall waken, And re-possess the heart." ORIGINAL POETRY. HYMN. BRITAIN'S PENITENCE. Hear, hear, the deep drawn sigh; Bid the destroying angel spare, Arrest his arm, oh! say, "forbear." Father of Heaven, 'gainst thee we've sinn'd, |