MASSACHUSETTS

Conway, Cong. Soc., of which 31 is from
Samuel Denham, to const. Rev. R.
Barnes, of Washington, Ill., a L. M.,
and 30 is to const. Rev. Samuel Harris,
of Conway a L. M., by Otis Child,
Fitchburgh, Mrs. Lydia Boutelle, by
Rev. E. W. Bullard,
Hadley, First Cong. Soc., Ladies' H.
M. S., by Mrs. Marsh, to const.
Augustus C. Thompson a L. M.
West Springfield, in part of legacy
of the late Rev. J. L. Pomeroy, by L.
Strong, Esq.,

CONNECTICUT

Danbury, First Cong. Soc., by Rev. R. S. Stone,

Gilead, Cong. Soc., by Rev. C. Nichols, Meriden, Cong. Soc., by Rev. G. W. Perkins,

Middletown, Fem, H. M. S. to const. Mrs. Arthur Granger a L. M., per Miss E. Cotton,

Mystic Bridge, H. M. S., by Mrs. E. H.

Springfield, $44 01; Rev. A. Hale, to const. Mrs. Charlotte Scarrett, of Godfrey, Ill., a L. M. $10,

54201

$104 01

Receipts of the Western Agency, Geneva, N. Y., from April 26 to June 30, 1842. Rev. J. A. Murray, Secretary.

2.00

Alone with God.

[For the Pastor's Journal.]

We are always with God, and he is always with us. But there are some circumstances in which this truth is apprehended by the soul with unwonted clearness; when we not only feel our. selves to be in his presence, but also that we are, as it were, alone with him. Some years since, a scientific gentleman returning from Europe, when in mid ocean, had the following experience. After a day of gentle breezes, evening came placidly on, unspotted by a cloud, unstirred by a breath of air. The winds seemed to have died on the shores of distant continents. The ocean lay in a profound slumber, and the helpless ship slept also on its bosom. As the night advanced, all sounds were hushed on board, and the repose of universal nature became so intense as to be actually oppressive to the solitary passenger who gazed from the bulwarks upon the scene. So smooth was the water, that the whole canopy of heaven was perfectly reflected in the mirror below; the line of the horizon was invisible, and the concave above and that beneath, were joined in one continuous, illimitable sphere. The earth and the ocean were annihilated; and the ship, like an atom in the centre of the universe, was hung up in space, with nothing between her and the stars, which beamed with equal clearness from the Zenith and from the Nadir. Nor eye nor ear gave evidence of any nearer object; and the gazer felt himself to be ALONE WITH GOD, in his vast pavilion. All intrusive things that engross the senses, and through them the thoughts, were gone; and a

feeling of the INFINITE lay vast, absorbing, irresistible upon the soul. Even to breathe, was a thing of awe. How dreadful to be so surrounded with God, to have such an apprehension of being shut up in direct contact with pure holiness, and almighty power!

But our traveller was a Christian. He was no stranger to communion with his Maker, though never before had he been so impressed with the majesty of God and the littleness of man. From the depths of his awed and entranced spirit there went up such praise, such rejoicing confidence, that stretching forth his hands into the midnight air, as if he could take hold on the Divinity, his whole soul poured itself out in the feeling, (words would have seemed profane) "ABBA, FATHER !"

The writer knows not the subsequent experience of this man; but it seems hardly possible that he can ever have any serious doubts of his being a child of God. To be so separated from all earthly dependence, to be carried, as it were, so far away into eternity, and have such an intelligent, distinct, and full apprehension of God, in his natural awfulness and his moral glory, and to feel no recoil; but, on the contrary, to have the soul leap up with transport towards God as her chosen portion and her rest—this, methinks, is an evidence of grace second only to that blessed consciousness of complete salvation, which will be enjoyed by the saint, beyond the grave, when he gets home to the bosom of his God and Savior.

The time is coming-nay, it is even at the door-when you, reader, shall find yourself ALONE with God. Not only will you be called away from your worldly business to go and meet him,

Oh, that they were wise!

[For the Pastor's Journal.]

Were I to see a building in flames, and a poor infatuated mortal enter it,

and sit down to eat and drink and repose, I should deem him presumptuous, if not insane. Should I see a reckless adventurer floating in a boat just above the rapids of the Niagara, and suffering himself to be drifted towards the dread. ful precipice, and yet plying no oar, nor uttering a cry for help, I should not fail to regard him as bereft of reason, or, at least, desirous of death. But O, where shall we find a name for the conduct of him who suspends the interests of a certain eternity, on the possible continuance of an uncertain life! who risks the endurance of a death-bed without hope, and a hell without end, in order that he may be at ease a little longer in his business, in his pleasures, and in his sins!

I stood by the death-bed of one who had no hope. No fond expectation of recovery soothed his pains, and beguiled the tedious hours of languishing. That "flattering unction" he could not apply to his smarting conscience: he knew he must now die. Nor could he procure a temporary solace by resorting to unbelief. In the few intervals of his pain, when his mind could act connectedly, and he could be brought to look at the subject, there was an awful clearness in his convictions of christian truth. Here, then, he lay, all encompassed with horror. Behind, was the wreck of hopes and resolutions, covering all the stream of the past. Before him, the dark curtain of eternity hid all from his view, except as it occasionally seemed to lift itself up, and disclose terrific scenes in waiting for his soul.

Neglected opportunities.

[For the Pastor's Journal.]

It is now twenty-five years since, as I think, the Lord appeared in mercy to my soul, by speaking pardon through the blood of Jesus. O, miracle of grace, if ever so faithless and unprofitable a servant as I have been, shall attain to the mansions of the saved! During the first summer after I entertained the hope of pardon, my mind was much exercised in behalf of the unconverted. I felt that I could persuade almost any man to be a Christian, if he would only listen to me, till I could have time to communicate my views. In this belief, I wrote many letters to acquaintances abroad, as well as held numerous conversations with individuals in my immediate neighborhood. But alas! soon I began to find that my efforts were unavailing. Probably my zeal was not according to knowledge, or I was working in my own strength; for I have never learned that much fruit resulted from my labors. I sunk down into a state of despondency and inaction, during which the following circumstances occurred.

There lived near me an intelligent negro, of more than usual cultivation and business talent. This man was

learn, and in his life and conversation, gave too much reason to believe, that he was immoral and profane. My compassion was excited for his soul. I thought I would certainly speak to him about the things of eternity. Soon an opportunity offered. But his bold look, deep toned voice, and well known character for disputation, overawed me, and I put it off. Another occasion, and again another, came and went, unimproved; each furnishing, as I then thought, some apology for deferring the duty.

At length, I heard that the man was sick, and under circumstances where I could not very conveniently gain access to him. I then reproached myself with my negligence. "Perhaps he inay die," thought I, "and no one has warned him to flee from the wrath to come. I certainly will embrace the first opportunity, to exhort him to take care of his soul." But still I neglected to fulfil my resolution immediately. I waited for an opportunity, instead of making one. What was my surprise and compunction of mind, when at the end of three days, I learned that he had been carried off by a violent disease, without one word of instruction or of prayer having been offered at his bed-side, and that he had gone into eternity, in all the deep pollution of his sins! O, then, how did my bleeding heart beat painfully within me, at the thought, that the blood of that soul might be found in my skirts! And how

often, in the street and in the crowd, as well as in the secret retirement of my closet, has that negro's form appeared to stand before me, and upbraid me with my guilt, in not saying, at least one word of warning! I trust I have repented, and that God has forgiven me; but I can never forgive myself

that crime.

I have penned this brief account, because I would have my christian brethren avoid the stings that I have suffered. Since then, I have tried to be faithful to sinners, though alas, I have done but little, after all. Still, no other case of neglect haunts my conscience like the one I have detailed. And yet, reader, you are exposed to just such neglect and compunction, unless you "watch and pray" against the fearful evil of procrastination.

A temperance fact.

[From a missionary.]

The temperance movement with us was immediately occasioned by the following providential circumstance. The in a fit of intoxication, threatened the most abandoned drunkard in the place, life of his unoffending wife, and turned her out of his house in a most brutal manner. She went before a magistrate, made oath against him as a dangerous man, and had him imprisoned. Here, in the loneliness of his confinement, he came to himself-expressed sorrow for the course of life he had led, and formed the determination to abandon wholly the use of all intoxicating liquors. An opportunity was given him, and he took the Washingtonian pledge. A friend appearing to give him bail, he was released, and went home to his desolate log-cabin. His deeply injured wife did She wanted to be convinced that he was not see fit to return to him immediately. a thoroughly reformed man. He saw her passing his house, and desired to speak to her-confessed that he had disgraced and ruined her and her children, and desired her to do some sewing for him that he might leave the place. She told him he had better not go, he might retrieve his character, &c. He burst into tears, and desired her to pray for him, (for she was a praying woman.) She went in, and he knelt by her side, which he had not done before for years, if ever. It was now understood that he wished to join a temperance society, and we felt called upon to act. meeting was called. He addressed us in a few humble and affecting words, and put his name, by invitation, first to the pledge. Since this he has constantly attended meeting and the Sab

A

bath school. Before his reformation he

had not been seen in the house of God for 15 years, as we have been informed. There is an appearance of sincerity and sobriety about him, which makes us hope it will be permanent. An excellent sister often mentioned his unhappy case before his reformation, and since has said, that he was often before her mind in her closet, and she was led to pray that he might be saved from drunkenness.

P.