is a personal offer, which must be personally accepted or personally rejected. It requires, first, that we see our necessity, and are therefore ready to apply for help; that we feel our desert of punishment, and therefore desire a ransom. But it requires more also: for one might feel his necessity, and wish for relief, and yet doubt the power of him who offered it: it requires therefore a firm persuasion that he who makes the offer is able to make the offer good; and, in the special case of Christ, it requires us to believe that he can and will save us; has ransomed us; is able to bestow on us his Holy Spirit, and to prepare us for an eternal kingdom, into which he will hereafter receive us if we follow him obediently here. Such is the corresponding movement on our parts by which his gracious offer must be met; such is the willing hand which we must stretch out to receive the proffered boon, or it is proposed to us in vain. "Faith is not merely a speculation, but a practical acknowledgment of Jesus as the Christ: an effort and motion of the mind towards God; when the sinner, convinced of sin, accepts with thankfulness the proffered terms of pardon, and in humble confidence applying individually to himself the benefit of the general atonement," in the elevated language of a venerable father of the church, drinks deep of the stream which flows from the Redeemer's side." The effect is, that in a little time he is filled with that "perfect love of God which casteth out fear," he cleaves to God with the entire affection of the soul. And the question, whether we are abiding in Christ, comes to this: Have we that confidence, that trust, that dependence upon him, which induces us to accept his offer; and are we ready to commit ourselves-I should rather say, have we committed ourselves-into his hands, both for this world and the next, instead of taking our chance for what may come, or instead of trusting to our own power, our own goodness, our own views of religion? Then we can say with the Apostle, "I know in whom I have believed; and that he is able to keep that which I have committed to him against that day." This acceptance of his offer is FAITH; and to have so accepted it as to be habitually living by it, and depending on it, is to “abide in Christ:" then he is to the Christian what the stem is to the branch, the sole support on which it leans. RICHARD CHENEVIX, an eminent chemist, a native of Ireland, died 1830, was author of Dramatic Poems, 1801, 8vo; Chemical Nomenclature, 1802, 12mo; Mineralogical Systems, 1811, 8vo; The Mantuan Rivals, a Comedy; Henry Seventh, a Historical Tragedy, 1812, 8vo; An Essay upon National Character, 1832, 2 vols. 8vo (posthumous); and Chemical Papers in Philosophical Transactions, Nicholson's Journal, and Transactions of the Irish Academy. See Edinburgh Review, July, 1812, and Gentleman's Magazine, June, 1830, 562 (Obituary). THE INDUSTRY OF THE BRITISH NATION. One of the most remarkable and fortunate circumstances in the above statement is, that the domestic and proper industry of Englishmen-the produce of their hands and minds -furnishes four-fifths of their exports. Of all the modes of traffic, the most advantageous would be for one and the same people to perform every operation relating to it; that is to say, for them to grow the raw material, and fabricate it at home, and then export the manufactured commodity in ships of their own construction, and manned by themselves. To complete this process in all its stages has not fallen to the lot of any empire extensively engaged in industry; nor could it be possible for the same country to produce all the materials employed in manufactures, some of which belong to the coldest, others to the warmest climates. But if the soil be occupied in producing what it can best produce, and if the returns of trade bring home other materials, the advantage is nearly as great; and the rationale of industry is fully satisfied by the proportion of labour which remains to be bestowed upon them. Now, though England does not produce the silks which she weaves, or the dyes with which she colours them; though all the wool which she spins, all the iron which she converts into steel, may not be of native growth, yet her commercial superiority enables her to procure those primary substances at as low a price as they would cost her were they the produce of the land. It is, then, with great wisdom that she has turned her attention, not to compel an unpropitious soil and climate to yield the drugs and spices of the East, but to import them; not to work ungrateful ores into imperfect instruments, but to purchase the crude matter wherever it is best, and to bestow upon it that which gives it value,-labour. Neither is she the only country that has pursued the same prudent system: almost all commercial nations have adopted it. But there never did exist an empire which bestowed so much of its own -of itself-upon the raw productions of nature, and spun so large a portion of its wealth out of the unsubstantial, intangible, abstract commodity, composed of time, intellect, and exertion, and which is marketable only in the staples of civilization. In the ten millions of foreign or colonial produce which England exported in 1823, there was much important labour,-much nautical skill and industry; but in the remaining forty millions, there was not merely four times, but perhaps sixty times, as much happy application of time, intellect, and exertion; and they who appreciate her by her colonies, and by her mere transport of external produce, have a feeble idea of her state of improvement. Could any single principle suffice to designate, with absolute precision, the difference between civilization and luxury, it might be| the value of time. Time must be estimated by what it produces; and superior understanding can make a minute bring more blessings to mankind than ages in the hands of idleness. Neither is it by the selfish enjoyments of luxury that our moments can be rendered precious, but by the acquisition and application of intellectual force, and their productive power is the justest measure of civilization. Now, the productive power of time must be estimated by the quantity and the quality, -by the usefulness and the multitude of its productions. The most civilized and enlightened nation is that whose industry can pour upon the world the greatest proportion of the best and most valuable commodities in the shortest time. From the rapidity with which such a nation fabricates good things, is derived a necessary appendage to this mode of appreciating civilization,-cheapness. It must not, however, be supposed that this is unlimited, or that a low price of manufactures can compensate for their mediocrity. Civilization does not make bad things for nothing: this is the work of idleness, or of luxury affecting to be industrious. The bent of civilization is to make good things cheap. It is a proud and true distinction, that, in this island, the average consumption of woollens per head is more than double of what it is in the most favoured country of Europe; and more than four times as much as the average of the entire Continent, including even its coldest region. An Essay upon National Character. DANIEL WEBSTER, LL.D., an eminent American orator and statesman, was born in Salisbury, New Hampshire, January 18, 1782; graduated at Dartmouth College, 1801; was admitted to the Suffolk bar, 1805; removed to Boston, 1816; M.C. 1813-17 and 1823-27, and U. S. Senator 1828-41 and 1845-50; visited England, Scotland, and France, 1839; Secretary of State under Harrison, 1841, under Tyler, 1841-43, and under Fillmore, July 20, 1850, until his death, at his seat at Marshfield, Mass., October 24, 1852. His Speeches and Forensic Arguments were published in Boston, 1830-35-43, 3 vols. 8vo, 8th edit., 1841 ; his Diplomatic and Official Papers whilst Secretary of State were issued in New York, 1848, 8vo; and The Speeches, Forensic Arguments, and Diplomatic Papers, with a Notice of his Life and Writings, by Hon. Edward Everett, were published at Boston, 1851, 6 vols. 8vo, large paper, royal 8vo, 11th edit., 1858, new edit., 1864. These volumes should be accompanied by The Private Correspondence (1798-1852) of Daniel Webster, Edited by [his son] Fletcher Webster, Boston, 1857, 2 vols. 8vo, large paper, royal 8vo, 4th edit., 1857, new edit., 1864, and The Life and Letters of Daniel Webster, by George Ticknor Curtis [one of his literary executors], N.Y., 1870, 2 vols. 8vo; The Great Orations and Speeches, Boston, 1879, r. 8vo. "The best speeches of Webster are among the very best that I am acquainted with in the whole range of oratory, ancient or modern. They have always appeared to me to belong to that simple and manly class which may be properly headed by the name of Demosthenes. Webster's speeches sometimes bring before my mind the image of the Cyclopean walls,-stone upon stone, compact, firm, and ground. After I had perused, and aloud, too, the last speech which you sent me, I was desirous of testing my own appreciation, and took down It did not Demosthenes, reading him aloud too. lessen my appreciation of Webster's speech. You know that I insist upon the necessity of entire countries for high, modern citizenship; and all my intercourse with Webster made me feel that the same idea or feeling lived in him, although he never expressed it. Webster had a big heart, and for that very reason was a poor party-leader in our modern sense."-DR. FRANCIS LIEBER TO S. AUSTIN ALLIBONE, Jan. 16, 1860. PRIDE OF ANCESTRY. It is a noble faculty of our nature which enables us to connect our thoughts, our sympathies, and our happiness with what is distant in place or time; and, looking before and after, to hold communion at once with our ancestors and our posterity. Human and mortal although we are, we are nevertheless not mere insulated beings, without relation to the past or the future. Neither the point of time nor the spot of earth in which we physically live, bounds our rational and intellectual enjoyments. We live in the past by a knowledge of its history, and in future by hope and anticipation. By ascend ing to an association with our ancestors; by contemplating their example and studying their character; by partaking their sentiments, and imbibing their spirit; by accompanying them in their toils; by sympathizing in their sufferings, and rejoicing in their successes and their triumphs, we mingle our own existence with theirs, and seem to belong to their age. We become their contemporaries, live the lives which they lived, endure what they endured, and partake in the rewards which they enjoyed. And in like manner, by running along the line of future time; by contemplating the probable fortunes of those who are coming after us; by attempting something which may promote their happiness, and leave some not dishonourable memorial of ourselves for their regard when we shall sleep with the fathers, we protract our own earthly being, and seem to crowd whatever is future, as well as all that is past, into the narrow compass of our earthly existence. As it is not a vain and false, but an exalted and religious imagination which leads us to raise our thoughts from the orb which, amidst this universe of worlds, the Creator has given us to inhabit, and to send them with something of the feeling which nature prompts, and teaches to be proper among children of the same Eternal Parent, to the contemplation of the myriads of fellow-beings with whom his goodness has peopled the infinite of space; so neither is it false or vain to consider ourselves as interested or connected with our whole race through all time; allied to our ancestors; allied to our posterity; closely compacted on all sides with others; ourselves being but links in the great chain of being, which begins with the origin of our race, runs onward through its successive generations, binding together the past, the present, and the future, and terminating at last with the consummation of all things at the throne of God. There may be, and there often is, indeed, a regard for ancestry, which nourishes only a weak pride; as there is also a care for posterity, which only disguises an habitual avarice, or hides the workings of a low and grovelling vanity. But there is also a moral and philosophical respect for our ancestors, which elevates the character and improves the heart. Next to the sense of religious duty and moral feeling, I hardly know what should bear with stronger obligation on a liberal and enlightened mind than a consciousness of alliance with excellence which is departed; and a consciousness, too, that in its acts and conduct, and even in its sentiments, it may be actively operating on the happiness of those who come after it. Poetry is found to have few stronger conceptions, by which it would affect or over whelm the mind, than those in which it presents the moving and speaking image of the departed dead to the senses of the living. This belongs to poetry only because it is congenial to our nature. Poetry is, in this respect, but the handmaid of true philosophy and morality. It deals with us as human beings, naturally reverencing those whose visible connection with this state of being is severed, and who may yet exercise we know not what sympathy with ourselves; and when it carries us forward, also, and shows us the long-continued result of all the good we do in the prosperity of those who follow us, till it bears us from ourselves, and absorbs us in an intense interest for what shall happen to the generations after us, it speaks only in the language of our nature, and affects us with sentiments which belong to us as human beings. Discourse delivered at Plymouth, Dec. 22, 1820, in Commemoration of the First Settlement of New England, Boston, 1821, 8vo. THE PRESERVATION OF THE UNION. I profess, sir, in my career hitherto to have kept steadily in view the prosperity and honour of the whole country, and the preservation of our federal union. It is to that union we owe our safety at home and our consideration and dignity abroad. It is to that union that we are chiefly indebted for whatever makes us most proud of our country. That union we reached only by the discipline of our virtues, in the severe school of adversity. It had its origin in the necessities of disordered finance, prostrate commerce, and ruined credit. Under its benign influences these great interests immediately awoke, as from the dead, and sprang forth with newness of life. Every year of its duration has teemed with fresh proofs of its utility and its blessings; and although our territory has stretched out wider and wider, and our population spread farther and farther, they have not outrun its protection or its benefits. It has been to us all a copious fountain of national, social, and personal happiness. I have not allowed myself, sir, to look beyond the union, to see what might lie hidden in the dark recess behind. I have not coolly weighed the chances of preserving liberty, when the bonds that unite us together shall be broken asunder. I have not accustomed myself to hang over the precipice of disunion to see whether, with my short sight, I can fathom the depth of the abyss below; nor could I regard him as a safe counsellor in the affairs of this government, whose thoughts should be mainly bent on considering not how the union should be best preserved, but how tolerable might be the condition of the people when it shall be broken up and destroyed. While the union lasts we have high, exciting, gratifying prospects spread out before us, for us and our children. Beyond that I seek not to penetrate the veil. God grant that, in my day at least, that curtain may not rise. God grant that on my vision never may be opened what lies behind. When my eyes shall be turned to behold, for the last time, the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonoured fragments of a once glorious union; on States dissevered, discordant, belligerent; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood! Let their last feeble and lingering glance rather behold the gorgeous ensign of the republic, now known and honoured throughout the earth, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their original lustre, not a stripe erased or polluted, nor a single star obscured,-bearing for its motto no such miserable interrogatory as,-What is all this worth? Nor those other words of delusion and folly,-Liberty first, and union afterwards, but everywhere, spread all over in characters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds as they float over the sea and over the land, and in every wind under the whole heavens, that other sentiment dear to every true American heart,-Liberty and union, now and for ever, one and inseparable! Speech in Reply to Mr. Hayne, of South ELOQUENCE. When public bodies are to be addressed on momentous occasions, when great interests are at stake, and strong passions excited, nothing is valuable in speech further than it is connected with high intellectual and moral endowments. Clearness, force, and earnestness are the qualities which produce conviction. True eloquence, indeed, does not consist in speech. It cannot be brought from far. Labour and learning may toil for it, but they will toil in vain. Words and phrases may be marshalled in every way, but they cannot compass it. It must exist in the man, in the subject, and in the occasion. Affected passion, intense expression, the pomp of declamation, all may aspire after it, they cannot reach it. It comes, if it come at all, like the outbreaking of a fountain from the earth, or the bursting forth of volcanic fires with spontaneous, original, native force. The graces taught in the schools, the costly ornaments and studied contrivances of speech, shock and disgust men when their own lives and the fate of their wives, their children, and their country hang on the decision of the hour. Then words have lost their power, rhetoric is vain, and all elaborate oratory contemptible. Even genius itself then feels rebuked and subdued, as in the presence of higher qualities. Then patriotism is eloquent; then self-devotion is eloquent. The clear conception outrunning the deductions of logic, the high purpose, the firm resolve, the dauntless spirit, speaking on the tongue. beaming from the eye, informing every feature, and urging the whole man onward, right onward to his object,-this, this is eloquence; or rather it is something greater and higher than all eloquence, it is action. noble, sublime, godlike action. Discourse in Commemoration of John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, Bost., 1826, 8vo. REGINALD HEBER, D.D., born at Malpas, Cheshire, 1783, educated at Brazennose College, Oxford, where he distinguished himself by his Latin poem, Carmen Seculare, his English poem of Palestine, and a prose essay, entitled The Sense of Honour, in 1822 was elected Preacher to Lincoln's Inn, and in 1823 succeeded Dr. Middleton in the bishopric of Calcutta, where he laboured with great zeal and success, until cut off by an apoplectic fit whilst bathing, April 3, 1826. Works: Palestine, a Poem, to which is added The Passage of the Red Sea, a Fragment, 1809, 4to; Europe: Lines on the Present War, 1809, 8vo: reprinted, with Palestine, etc., in Poems and Translations, 1812, small 8vo, and later; The Personality and Office of the Christian Comforter Asserted and Explained; Sermons at the Bampton Lecture, Oxf., 1816, 8vo, 1818, 8vo; Hymns Written and Adapted to the Weekly Service of the Year, by Bishop Heber, etc., Lond., 1827. 11th edit., 1842; A Journey through India, from Calcutta to Bombay, with Notes upon Ceylon, and a Journey to Madras and the Southern Provinces, Lond., 1828, 2 vols. 4to (some on fine paper), again 1828, 3 vols. 8vo, 1829, 3 vols. 8vo, 1830, 3 vols. 8vo, New York, 1828, 2 vols. 8vo, abridged, Lond., 1844, 2 vols. p. 8vo (sold for Mrs. Heber by Sir R. H. Inglis, for £5000); Sermons Preached in England, Lond., 1829, 8vo; Sermons Preached in India, Lond., 1829, 8vo; Parish Sermons on the Lessons, the Gospel, or the Epistle, for Every Sunday in the Year, and for Week-day Festivals, Preached in the Parish Church of Hodnet, Salop, Lond., 1837, 3 vols. 8vo, 5th edit., 1844, 2 vols. 8vo; The Whole Works of Bishop Jeremy Taylor, with a Life of the Author, and a Čritical Éxamination of his Writings, Lond., 1820-22, 15 vols. 8vo, 2d edit., 1828, 15 vols. 8vo, 3d edit., 1839, 15 vols. 8vo revised by C. P. Eden, 1847-54, 10 vols. 8vo: Heber's Life of Taylor was published separately, 1824, 2 vols. cr. 8vo, 3d edit., 1828, Svo. See Heber's Life and unpublished Works by his Widow, Lond., 1830, 2 vols. 4to, and The Last Days of Bishop Heber, by Thomas Robinson, 1830, 8vo. "Learned, polished, and dignified, he was undoubtedly; yet far more conspicuously kind, humble, tolerant, and laborious;-zealous for his church, too, and not forgetful of his station; but remembering it more for the duties than for the honours that were attached to it."-Lord JEFFREY: Edin. Review, 48: 314. TIME AND ETERNITY. There is an ancient fable told by the Greek and Roman Churches, which, fable as it is, may for its beauty and singularity well deserve to be remembered, that in one of the earliest persecutions to which the Christian world was exposed, seven Christian youths sought concealment in a lonely cave, and there, by God's appointment, fell into a deep and death-like slumber. They slept, the legend runs, two hundred years, till the greater part of mankind had received the faith of the Gospel, and that Church which they had left a poor and afflicted orphan, had "kings" for her "nursing fathers, and queens" for her "nursing mothers." They then at length awoke, and entering into their native Ephesus, so altered now that its streets were altogether unknown to them, they cautiously inquired if there were any Christians in the city? "Christians!" was the answer, we are all Christians here!" and they heard with a thankful joy the change, which, since they left the world, had taken place in the opinions of its inhabitants. On one side they were shown a stately fabric adorned with a gilded cross, and dedicated, as they were told, to the worship of their crucified Master; on another, schools for the public exposition of those Gospels of which so short a time before the bare profession was proscribed and deadly. But no fear was now to be entertained of those miseries which had encircled the cradle of Christianity: no danger now of the rack, the lions, or the sword: the emperor and his prefects held the same faith with themselves, and all the wealth of the east, and all the valour and authority of the western world, were exerted to protect and endow the professors and the teachers of their religion. 66 But joyful as these tidings must at first have been, their further inquiries are said to have been met with answers which very deeply surprised and pained them. They learned that the greater part of those who called themselves by the name of Christ, were strangely regardless of the blessings which Christ had bestowed, and of the obligations which He had laid on His followers. They found that, as the world had become Christian, Christianity itself had become worldly; and wearied and sorrowful they besought of God to lay them asleep again, crying out to those who followed them, "You have shown us many heathens who have given up their old idolatry without gaining anything better in its room; many who are of no religion at all; and many with whom the religion of Christ is no more than a cloak of licentiousness; but where, where are the Christians?" And thus they returned to their cave; and there God had compassion on them, releasing them, once for all, from that world for whose reproof their days had been lengthened, and removing their souls to the society of their ancient friends and pastors, the martyrs and saints of an earlier and a better generation. The admiration of former times is a feeling at first, perhaps, engrafted on our minds by the regrets of those who vainly seek in the evening of life for the sunny tints which adorned their morning landscape; and who are led to fancy a deterioration in surrounding objects, when the change is in themselves, and the twilight in their own powers of perception. It is probable that, as each age of the individual or the species is subject to its peculiar dangers, so each has its peculiar and compensating advantages; and that the difficulties which, at different periods of the world's duration, have impeded the believer's progress to heaven, though in appearance equally various, are, in amount, very nearly equal. It is probable that no age is without its sufficient share of offences, of judgments, of graces, and of mercies, and that the corrupted nature of mankind was never otherwise than hostile or indifferent to the means which God has employed to remedy its misery. Had we lived in the times of the infant Church, even amid the blaze of miracle on the one hand, and the chastening fires of persecution on the other, we should have heard, perhaps, no fewer complaints of the cowardice and apostasy, the dissimulation and murmuring inseparable from a continuance of public distress and danger, than we now hear regrets for those days of wholesome affliction, when the mutual love of believers was strengthened by their common danger; when their want of worldly advantages disposed them to regard a release |