Reader! the close of another year has brought you so much nearer the end of your probation on earth. In the space of a few months how many have perished under the stroke of death! Young and old, rich and poor, small and great, have gone down to the grave, where “they rest together, and the servant is free from his master.” Before the close of 1835, what multitudes, now in the prime of life, in the pursuit of pleasure, in the possession of riches, in the road to preferment, or having secured the object of worldly ambition, will have passed into the unseen state, and rendered their account to God. The flight of time calls upon the careless and undecided to consider their ways, and turn unto the Lord.
The Christian, too, should testify his gratitude to God for his continued goodness, and “lift up his head, for his redemption draweth nigh.” With what seriousness and devotion should we attend to the duties of religion, so that “whether we live, we may live to the Lord; or whether we die, we may die to the Lord; that whether we live, or die, we may be the Lord’s!” Let not this day come upon us unawares, and find us in a state of carnal security; but may our loins be girded, our lamps burning, and ourselves like servants waiting for their Lord’s return,—“looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour, Jesus Christ.” “Wherefore, beloved, be diligent that ye may be found of him in peace, without spot, and blameless.”
T. P.
POETRY.
NEW YEAR’S DAY.
Time, the mundane sphere revolving,
Brings another New Year’s Day;
Orb of light, ’mid lengthened shadows,
Glance one soft and lingering ray,
As we muse on
Days receding fast away.
Pledge of joys that may await us
In our future pilgrimage,
Or of heavenly consolation
That may coming griefs assuage,
To believers
Promised in the sacred page.