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Not only her language but also her actions were so expressive of the joy

mankind, Nailed to the shameful tree," &c. She often repeated that hymn, "O the Lamb, the loving Lamb," &c.- and happiness, I might add of the glory

"Now," she would say in the most solemn manner, "you are capable of calling upon God." To a friend she said, "when you speak let it be to the purpose. Say nothing but Jesus! Glory!" I often went to her bed and asked, are you in pain? "No." Are you sick? "No." Do you want a drink? "Yes." What makes you say amen so often? "Glory!" was always the answer. She sung* a line or two of different hymns. One was

"Jesus can make a dying bed,

Feel soft as downy pillows are," &c.

* The late Dr. Rush, who was the ardent friend of evangelical piety, and often prescribed for the soul as well as the body of his patients, was the Physician that attended Mrs. M'Arthur during her fast illness. He has been known to refer to her triumphaut death in his lectures delivered in the University of Pennsylvania. Speaking of her singing he used to say, "Twas more than human? 'twas angelic. Her singing chained me to her bed."

that was revealed to her, that she would extend her dying arms and appear to be gazing with rapture on some friendly celestials, endeavouring in vain to make us sensible of their presence by pointing and saying, "Don't you see? O! there, Glory! Glory! is my own," with such ecstacy as to astonish the favoured ones that witnessed this triumphant scene.We could only wonder and adore the giver of life in death.

She has gone. Your Lydia rests after lingering months in pain. The scene is changed. "There the inhabitants shall no more say I am sick."

May these consoling reflections alleviate your grief, and teach you to bless the hand that gives you with such confidence to say, "I sorrow not-as those without hope."

With every possible wish for your welfare, I am as ever,

Your sincere friend,

FRANCENIA BUDD.

*

Poetry.

TO MARIA.

Reflections of a Mother on the Death of an Infant, aged nine months.

And art thou gone, my Agnes? lovely child!
And fled for ever from thy mother's sight?
Thou who so late my ling'ring hours beguil'd,
And cheer'd me with affection's chaste delight.

Ah my dear babe, how transient was thy stay,
Among these glories of deceitful kind!
What kindred spirit beckon'd thee away,
To leave me weeping in this vale behind?

Did sorrow fright thee with her mournful voice,
And bid thee from thy mother's arms depart?
Or did those joys above decide thy choice,
And captivate so soon thy infant heart?

Or did affliction point thee to that bier,
Where friendship breathes her last despairing
sigh?

Where blasted hope in anguish drops the tear,
And bids adieu to joys beneath the sky?

Oh! Agnes, Agnes, lovely offspring say?
Had earth no beauties to attract thee here?
Could not such innocence as thine long stay
Where scenes of visionary bliss appear?

Transient sojourner-sudden was thy flight,-
A pleasant visitor on earth awhile.
Then plum'd thy wing, and fied from mortal
sight,

No more our passing moments to beguile.

Thy soft affections like the creeping vine,
Held me a captive in thy fond embrace,

And round my heart so closely did entwine,
That torn; I can, their deep impressions trace.
Oh! that engaging smile still moves my soul,
When reason's ray began so bright to shine,
When that fond look, my warm affections stole,
And all the mother's heart was lost in thine.

But thou art lovely still in death's embrace;
Yes; Agnes smiles as in a gentle sleep;
Tho' cold as marble is ber beauteous face,
Consign'd to dust for angel bands to keep.
Forgive, oh Jesus! Saviour of mankind,

Who on this earth hast shed affection's tear,
If thou in me, a murm'ring thought can find,
Oh! soothe my heart, and calm the rising fear.

Content, that Agnes dwells above with thee,

Fair plant to flourish in a milder air,
And thus to bloom near that unfading Tree,
Whose fruits the beatific millions share.

From her short stay, I'll learn that here below,
No pleasure's lasting, no possession's sure,
That ev'ry cup is wix'd with dregs of woe,
And nought but heav'nly transports can
endure.

Patient I'll wait, tho' anguish rends my heart,
Till that bless'd call shall summons me away,
Then gladly from this vale of woe depart,
To join my Agnes in eternal day.

Baltimore, Nov. 3, 1823.

MIRANDA.

METHODIST MAGAZINE,

FOR MARCH, 1824.

Divinity.

SERMON ON THE SPIRITUALITY AND TRUTH OF DIVINE
WORSHIP.

The substance of a discourse delivered at the dedication of the
Methodist Church in Danville, Vt. Oct. 30, 1822.

BY THE REV. W. FISK, А. М.

God is a Spirit; and they that worship him, must worship him in spirit and in truth. JOHΝ ίν. 24.

THERE is scarcely a people so rude and irreligious, but have some ideas of worship due to a Supreme Being. And most nations, in all ages of the world, have reduced their worship to some kind of a system; having prescribed forms, rites and places, of religious service. But none of the nations of antiquity, had so perfect a system of this kind as the Jews. And no wonder, for theirs was the form, theirs the ritual, theirs the ordinances prescribed and dictated by God himself. "As Moses was admonished of God when he was about to make the tabernacle; for see, saith he, that thou make all things according to the pattern, showed to thee in the mount."

The Samaritans, especially in the days of our Lord, were not far behind the Jews in their forms of worship. Indeed they were much the same. After the king of Assyria had carried away captive, the ten tribes of Israel, he settled Samaria by a colony from Babylon and other places. These, at the first, were much annoyed by lions; which led them to conclude, that the tutelary god of that country was offended with them, "because they knew not the manner of the God of the land." To remedy this evil, a priest of the Israelites was sent among them, "who taught them how they should fear the Lord." That is, taught them the manner in which their predecessors, the Israelites, worshipped. It seems, however, they did not, at this time, entirely renounce their idolatrous worship; for though "they feared the Lord," yet "they served their own gods." But soon after the restoration of the Jews from the Babylonish captivity, these Samaritans renounced

VOL. VII.

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idolatry altogether, had them a temple built on mount Gerrizim, and attended to the same forms of worship with the Jews.

But both the Samaritans and the Jews at the time of our Lord's incarnation, had lost the substance in the shadow, the essence in the form. And now they were contending about the place of worship: the one maintaining that the mountain of Samaria: the other that Jerusalem, was "the place where men ought to worship." Christ came to correct their errors on this subject to show them what the acceptable worship of God was, and how it was to be performed. This he does in a clear manner, in that discourse with the woman of Samaria, of which our text makes a part.

Your attention is invited to this subject at the present time, because, on several accounts, we think it suited to this occasion. It is certainly very proper in dedicating a house to the worship of God, that we should examine for our own direction, those principles that are to guide and influence us in the service of his house. And as we have sometimes been misunderstood by some, and misrepresented by others, it is perhaps a duty we owe ourselves, to state and explain the nature and manner of that worship, which we pay to "the God of our fathers." Besides, it is a duty which we owe to our neighbours of other denominations, among whom we have built a house to the worship of the God of Heaven, to state, with all frankness, our principles of devotion and system of worship; that they may be able to determine how far it will be consistent for them to own us, and have intercourse with us as Christian brethren.

The doctrine of the text is contained in two propositions.
First, The worship of God must be spiritual.

Second, The worship of God must be in truth.

And the doctrine of these two propositions, is confirmed and enforced by the introductory clause to our text, "God is a Spirit." I. The worship of God must be spiritual. By this we are to understand,

1. That the worship of God consists in the right dispositions of the heart, and proper exercises of the mind, rather than in any outward peculiarity of time, form or place.

It is not meant by this, that no outward form is necessary. Neither Christ nor his apostles taught this. And such is the nature of man in this compound being of matter and spirit, such is the connection between the soul and the body, and such is the dependence of the former upon the latter, that outward exercise seems absolutely necessary to the reception of most of our inward sensations; and, in a greater or less degree, inseparably connected with their continuance. It is true, the exercises of the mind are sufficiently distinguished from those of the body, to convince every careful observer, that they are not the same; and yet so related, that every one must see they were designed to act together. The soul is confined and cramped in its motions, and cannot move to such purpose and efficiency alone, as when there is a corresponding action in the senses and members of the body. This not only gives energy, but constancy to the exercises of the mind. So natural and habitual is it, for the mind to receive its ideas and carry them into operation, through an outward medium that it is difficult to fix the attention for any length of time, without this medium. And, in his worship, as well as in other things, God designed that men should act in their compound nature, having a connection with the material, as well as with the spiritual, world. If the soul and body were united, in so mysterious and wonderful a manner, merely for the purposes of this world, it would seem God encumbered the soul with a body, for a very unimportant object. But when we learn, that they were united that we might "glorify God with our bodies," as well as " with our spirits which are his;" when we are taught "to present our bodies a living sacrifice to God," we then see, that these, as well as our spirits, have a very important part to perform, in the service of God. And this inust of course be by some outward form.

Further: since man is a social being, it is consistent to suppose, that God designed men should be associated together in his worship. And this is agreeable to the divine command, "Forsake not the assembling of yourselves together." But there can be no social worship, without some outward intelligible sign and form. Neither can there be social worship, without some place in which it is performed. Though it be not in the mountain of Samaria, nor at Jerusalem; though it be not in a consecrated temple, yet it must be somewhere, and at some time. And if the worship be stated, if it be not left to mere chance, it must be in a regularly concerted place, and at an appointed time.

From all these considerations it is very evident, that our Lord did not mean to prohibit outward forms, or the use of any established place of worship. But it was his design to show the impropriety of considering any place or any form, as constituting the essential part of his worship. The sanctity of no place, the perfection of no outward exercise, would render acceptable the service of an indevotional heart. On the other hand, if the heart were devotional, the worship would be acceptable, in whatever place, and under whatever form.

"He that worships God must worship him in spirit." As the body without the soul is dead, so the form of worship without the inward spirit of devotion, is dead also. As an attendance at court, and a punctilious observance of the ceremonies, in the king's presence chamber, does not make one that is a rebel at heart, a loyal subject; so an attendance at the place of worship, and a strict observance of the forms of religion, does not make a man of an indevotional spirit, an acceptable worshipper. He is

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a "cloud without water." He is a "sounding brass, and a tinkling cymbal."

2. God's worship is spiritual, as distinguished from the speculative exercise of the intellectual faculties.

There is a clear distinction between a devotional mind, and a mind exercised about the things of devotion. A distinction, however, which many seem not to have been sufficiently observed. In this respect it is very evident the Jews and Samaritans were in an error. And it is certain, the Christian church has been more or less afflicted with this error, from the apostolic age to the present day. The Gnosticks first introduced it into the church, and the divinity of the schools has kept it alive. No part of Christendom perhaps, in modern times, has been so much afflicted in this way as New-England. We have reason to hope that we are reforming in this respect; but we are not yet wholly rid of a dry metaphysical divinity, which makes the best part of religion consist in abstruse speculations of the mind, and abstract decisions of the judgment. Hence we hear, in our worshipping assemblies, a great deal of "essay preaching," as it has been aptly termed. Instead of the marrow of the gospel, the people are detained to hear a long course of reasoning, on some dry unprofitable thesis in school divinity, ten thousand of which would not be instrumental in converting a soul. At one time, there is much labour to prove, that true saints will rejoice as much over the misery of the damned, as over the happiness of the saved. At another time, a long list of speculations and syllogisms is brought forward to prove, that the regenerate are possessed of "disinterested benevolence." Again, we are called to determine, by a laboured metaphysical investigation, whether the prayer of the awakened sinner before regeneration, is a holy or an unholy exercise. And men are taught that their characters, as true or false worshippers, are decided, according as they assent to, or dissent from, such propositions. Hence, when they are examined in relation to their experience, to determine whether they are suitable persons for church-membership, they are asked such questions as the following. "Do you love God, for what he is in and of himself, as for his supposed communications to you?" "Is your happiness in yourself, or out of yourself?" "Are you willing to glorify God by being eternally miserable?" And many others of a similar nature. Such preaching and such exercises are called spiritual worship. To investigate such subjects, and to understand such investigations, to ask such questions, and to answer them when asked, require, it is acknowledged, a vigorous exertion of the mind. It is not an outward form, but an inward exercise. It is, however, any thing else, but worship: and approximates but little nearer to true devotion, than mere outward form. The understanding may be informed, the head may be orthodox, when the flame of devotion has never been lit up in the

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