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we stand aloof, and cultivate jealousies, and party feelings against each other. Being rarely called together to act in concert, as sister churches; we make but very little acquaintance with christians, beyond the narrow limits of our own parishes. This shameful ignorance of our brethren in Christ, and even of the officers and leading members of his church, "ought not so to be." We ought to be intimately acquainted with our brethren, even at a distance. But how can this acquaintance exist, so long as we utterly refuse to associate, or to cultivate any bonds of christian union whatsoever? It cannot take place. We must remain strangers and aliens, for want of some bond of union.

There is, in fact, but one alternative. The churches in this state, as well as generally, throughout christendom, must unite-must organize themselves, in union with their pastors, for mutual acquaintance, improvement, good fellowship, and discipline; or they must go to ruin.

All must be sensible, that the struggle with the enemies of divine truth, is arduous. Does it not become all the friends of Christ to unite, not to wage war against heretics; but to escape their pernicious snares?

Do any, after all, ask why the churches cannot do as well as they have done in times past? It might suffice to say, that unless they do much better than in times past, they will do very wickedly. The church

es, by their connection with heretics, are thought to be in danger of speedy ruin. Now, it is supposed, many are given over to strong delusion, denying the Lord that bought them, and rejecting, with abhorrence, the doctrines of the cross.

On these accounts, a union of the churches is thought to be more important now, than in past seasons of tranquility, when the voice of teachers was more regarded.

Finally; it is as absurd and unscriptural for individual churches to set up for independence of the united body of the church, as for individual towns to set up for independence of the state, or nation. Order, harmony and peace cannot be preserved and promoted, without a more extensive union, than that of a few individuals, or individual bodies.

From a careful view of the scrip tures, on this subject, we have found, that the churches established by the apostles, were composed of a large number of ministers, with their individual churches. These, in cordial union, fellowship, and co-operation, composed what we call a consocia tion. And from the days of the apostles, to this day, the orthodox churches have been nearly on the same ground. Their ecclesiastical judicatures have been of the nature, and have had the effects of a consociation of the churches.

MASSACHUSETTENSIS.

Miscellaneous.

For the Christian Spectator.

upon the ear, as we advanced, with

A description of the Falls of Ni- increasing roar, until, at the distance

agara.

Approaching the falls from Buffalo on the Canadian shore, the first indication of our proximity to them was a hoarse rumbling, which was scarcely audible at the distance of four or five miles, but which opened

of two miles, it became loud as the voice of many waters. A column of mist in the mean time ascending as smoke from a pit marked more definitely than sound could do, the exact position of this scene of wonders.The sublime arising from obscurity was now experienced in all its pow

er; it did not appear what we should see, but imagination seized the moment to elevate and fill the mind with expectation and majestic dread. With in a mile of the falls, the river rolls smoothly along in rapid silence, as if unconscious of its approaching destiny, till at once across its entire channel, it falls the apparent distance of ten or twelve feet, when instantly its waters are thrown into consternation and foam, and boil and whirl and run in every direction, as if filled with instinctive dread. At this place the shores recede, and allow the terrified waters to spread out in shallows over an extent twice as broad as the natural channel of the river.

A portion of the waters, as if hoping to escape, rushes between the American shore and the island (whose brow forms a part of the continued cliff, which on either side constitutes the falls) and too late to retreat, discovering the mistake, hurries down the precipice, and is dashed on the rocks below. This is the highest part of the fall, and the most nearly approaching to the beautiful; the waters being shallow and the sheet entirely white below.

Another large sheet of contiguous waters on the other side of the island, undecoyed by appearances, and apparently desperate by an infallible premonition, attempts no evasion, but with tumult and roar, rushes on and thunders down the precipice which stretches about half across to the Canadian shore.

The rest and the largest portion of the river, as if terrified at the fate of its kindred waters, retires a little, but scarcely is the movement made before the deep declivities of the river's bed summon the dispersion of waters into one deep dark flood, which rolls its majestic tide upon the destruction below.

The shallow waters which as yet have escaped, cling terrified to the Canadian shore, reconnoitering every nook and corner, in quest of some way to escape: but their search is fruitless, and they come round at

length reluctantly, and are dashed down upon the death they had so long struggled to escape.

It is at the junction of these two sides of the cataract,nearly in the form of two sides of a triangle, rounded at the point, that the most powerful sheet of water falls. The depth of the water in the channel above, and as it bends over the precipice, cannot, from the nature of the case, be ascer tained; I should judge from the appearance, that it might be from fifteen to twenty feet.

The colour of the part of the stream above the fall is black, as it bends over the cliff and descends, at the inintersection of the two sides and for several rods on either hand, it becomes a deep and beautiful green, which continues till the column is lost in the cloud of mist that asscends before it.

With respect to the impression made by the first view of the falls, it may be observed, that whoever approaches them anticipating amazement at the descent of the waters from a giddy height, will be disappointed. It is the multitude of waters and their power, as they roll and foam and thunder, which arrests the step, suspends the breath, dilates the eye, lifts the hand, and fills the soul with wonder.

It seems to be the good pleasure of God, that men shall learn his omnipotence by evidence addressed to the senses as well as the understanding, and that there shall be on earth continual illustrations of his mighty power: of creation we are ascertained by faith, not by sight; the heavenly bodies, though vast, are distant, and roll silently in their courses.-But the earth by its quakings, the volcano by its fires, the ocean by its mountain waves, and the floods of Niagara by the majesty of their power and ceaseless thunderings, proclaim to the eye, and to the ear, and to the heart, the omnipotence of God. From their far distant sources and multitudinous dispersions, he called them into the capacious reservoirs of the North, and

a

bid them hasten their accumulating tide to this scene of wonders, and for ages the obedient waters have rolled and thundered his praise. It is, as has been stated, where the two lines of the precipice meet, that the deepest and most powerful sheet of water falls, but it is here also, just where the hand of Omnipotence is performing its greatest wonders, that the consummation of the work is hid. What the phenomena are, where this stupen dous torrent strikes at the foot of the falls, no mortal eye hath seen; a mist rising to nearly half the height of the fall, is the veil beneath which the Almighty performs his wonders alone, and there is the hiding of his power. This is the spot upon which the eye wishfully fixes and tries in vain to penetrate; over which imagination hovers, but cannot catch even glimpse to sketch with her pencil. This deep recess is the most sublime and awful scene upon which my eye was ever fixed. Here amid thunderings and in solitude and darkness, from age to age, Jehovah has proclaimed, I am the almighty God. In beholding this deluge of created omnipotence, the thought, how irresistible is the displeasure of God, rushes upon the soul. It requires but a little aid of the imagination to behold in this ceaseless flow of waters the stream of his indignation which shall beat upon the wicked, in the gulf below the eternal pit, and in the cloud of exhalation, the smoke of their torment, which ascendeth up for ever and ever. And nothing but the wailing of unearthly voices seems necessary to make one feel that hell and destruction is uncovered before him. With these associations, all is dark, terrific, and dreadful, till from the midst of this darkness and these mighty thunderings, the bow, brilliant type of mercy, arises, and spreads its broad arch over the agitated waters, proclaiming that the Omnipotence which rolls the stream, is associated with mercy as well as with justice.

Vol. 3.-No. IX.

T. R.

59

For the Christian Spectator. The following is an extract from a letter dated Paris, April 25th,

1821.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

We have just returned from a visit, which has given us much pleasure. This you will readily believe when I tell you it was to the Marquis de La Fayette-a name which will ever be dear to Americans, associated as it is with that of the father of our country. We were received by him with the kindness and courtly affability, for which he is so much distinguished. Although he is now approaching three score and ten, yet his gait and motions have the sprightliness and agility of a man of thirty, with the exception, however, of a slight lameness in one hip. occasioned by a fall. He is quite tall, being full six feet, if not more-firmly, rather than elegantly built-large, but not corpulent. His upright figure, broad shoulders, and prompt manner, shew that there is still something of the soldier left. He has fine hazle eyes, to appearance entirely unimpaired by age, alternately flashing with the fire of intelligence, or softening into the mild expression of kindness,-projecting eyebrows,-a high long nose bordering upon aqueline and yet ràther fleshy, very fine teeth, and a healthy countenance.

His dress was entirely unornamented, and without any badge of nobility, consisting of a short gray surtout with covered buttons-a white vestblue pantaloons-his linen being without ruffs, and his cravat carelessly tied in a single knot. His residence is very respectably, yet plainly and characteristically furnished; and the room where we were, was decorated in a manner a little calculated to flatter our vanity. On one side of the door hung the Declaration of the Rights of French citizens, as established in '89, exhibited on a single sheet, and set in a plain frame; on the other side of the door,was the Con

stitution of the United States, similarly executed and framed; and at a little distance from this, was a fine print of Canova's superb statue of Washington, which I had recently seen at Rome. In reply to an enquiry respecting the strength of the likeness, the Marquis said—in English, which he speaks quite well-that he thought it very good, abating for the artist's desire to make it as perfect a piece of sculpture as possible. He showed us however, a bas-relief in gold upon the lid of a snuff box, which he said he considered the best likeness he had ever seen of the "General,” as he familiarly called him. They both bear a strong resemblance to those we commonly see in our country, and that on the box was very like the one in the print of the "Washington Family," with which you are familiar.

The Marquis manifested considerable interest in the affairs of Naples and Piedmont, and made several enquiries concerning them, observing, however, that their behaviour had shewn them unfit for a better government. To a friend, while conversing upon the conduct of America to her revolutionary soldiers, he remarked, that he had no reason to complain of ingratitude, and that the estate he now enjoyed was the fruit of her generosity. During the era of vicissitudes and troubles in France, his own possessions and those of his lady were confiscated, and he was left almost entirely without resources. Through the instrumentality of Mr. Jefferson,

then our Envoy at the French Court, valuable and saleable lands were allotted to him by Government for his services. With the avails of these he purchased back a part of his wife's patrimonial estate, the Chateau of La Grange Blessneau, upon which he lives in retirement and comfort during the recess of the Chamber of Deputies. Of this body he is at present a member, and associated with Benjamin Constant, he has a controlling influence in the Opposition. The opinion which the royalists entertain of his importance here, is manifest from the strenuous and determined efforts they made, during the last election, to keep him out of the House. But greatly to their mortification, he was elected from two Departments at the same time, so that one seat yet remains vacant in consequence of this struggle.

Perhaps there is no man of eminence in France, now living, with the exception of Talleyrand, who has passed through such vicissitudes, of almost every kind, as La Fayette. But while Talleyrand has safely wormed his way through, by cuuning and duplicity; La Fayette has stood, like a monument consecrated to political virtue, which all have been afraid to violate; or rather like an immoveable rock, around which revolutionary tempests have raged in vain, and their billows fallen harmless at his feet. Napoleon himself could not seduce him from his integrity, and he did not dare to destroy him.

Keview of New Publications.

The Judgment, A Vision. By the
Author of Percy's Masque. New
York, 1821. pp. 46. 8vo.

SIMPLY to amuse, by the exhibition of pleasing ideas clad in appropriate diction and enlivened by striking imagery, is the usual aim of rhyme;

while blank verse is, by common consent, left for such as have a more exalted end in view it is reserved for those, whose ambition it is to instruct, to elevate, and to ennoble. Subjects that are in themselves humble, or rendered so by some established association in the mind, are of

consequence inappropriate to this species of versification, and can seldom, if ever, be judiciously set forth in such a dress. To this cause, more than to any defect of ability, may perhaps be traced the sad want of popularity experienced by some of the recent poets of Great Britain, and that too, from productions confessedly abounding in good sense and in valuable practical remark. Blank verse from its very nature, demands indispensably, considerable elevation, both in the topic and the manner, before it can be at all acceptable to correct taste; and it admits of every degree of elevation, until you reach the loftiest and grandest conceptions, of which the imagination of man is capable. And the more lofty and grand these conceptions are, provided they are only distinct, the more appropriate appears the dignified vehicle furnished by this species of metrical modulation.

But there are some subjects, that seem to be too mighty for the limited faculties of man. There are some scenes too vast for the most gigantic intellect fully to grasp, or the most vigorous imagination adequately to pourtray. At the head of this class of topics, stands the character of the great uncreated Author of our being. Canst thou by searching find out God? Canst thou find out the Almighty unto perfection? It is as high as heaven, what canst thou do? deeper than hell; what canst thou know?"

Subject to the same difficulty must be every attempt to give a full delineation of the things of eternity, the bright manifestations, which God there gives of himself, the enjoyments of the blessed, and the pangs of the children of woe. It has been well said by another, that "the good and evil of eternity are too ponderous for the wings of wit; the mind sinks under them in passive helplessness, content with calm belief and humble adoration." An inspired apostle has also related, that when he was himself caught up to the third heaven, he

heard "unspeakable words, which it is not lawful" or possible "for man to utter;"-he witnessed scenes, which the mind, when shut up in its gross casement of flesh and blood, is incapable of comprehending, and for the delineation of which, human language, meagre and imperfect as it is, has no adequate terms.

The event, which is to us so awfully interesting, as fixing the eternal destiny of our race, is, as experience has often shewn, emphatically one of the topics, that labour under the insurmountable difficulty, of which we are speaking. With the exception of the clear annunciation of the fact that there surely will be a great day of account, God has no doubt wisely— so left the subject, that the whole of what is to be found in the Scriptures respecting it, amounts to little more than indistinct, unconnected intimations. Accordingly those, who on the basis of these slender materials have attempted a minute, extended and set description of the scene, have of necessity drawn very largely from the stores of their own fancy.

This subject has called forth the energies of some of the first geniuses of different ages and countries. While the pen has often laboured upon it, the pencil of the painter has also boldly dared to combine and to present to the eye the overwhelming realities of that eventful day. But of those, who have made the attempt in either form, a fearful majority have entirely failed, and given decisive evidence that they might far better have left the subject as they found it. Among the very few, that have in any degree succeeded in presenting consistent views and in producing proper impressions respecting this momentous spectacle, the names of only two individuals now occur to us. Even the far-famed Representation of Michæl Angelo, which decorates the interior of the Sistine Chapel at Rome,-abounding as it does, with happy evidences of the sublime genius and finished taste of a great master,-after all, leaves the beholder in a state of painful agi

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