' ' run. mi.'r'l lts has acquired (lrsu bobilr of riot- nf

HASZARD$ GAZETTE FEBRUARY 3

rue Queens ssauon.

lt!l.lGlttN in CUMMUN Lirtt. A Sermon by the Ru‘. John Caird, M.A., Minis- ter of Errol. Publislu-d by 111' Illajcslg/'s command.

OPIi'.ttas “ bv royal t-orriniziiid,” trav.crlies,com(--

dies, and farciis " by royal cotittiixtritl.” are coili- mun enough: but the publii-atioti of it sermon “by royal cottitrraritl " is a |-hvtroritciiuri of such rare occirrreiit-c, that the public is on the tiptoe of anxiety, to know Stllllulltll-[,3 about the ttiaii whom the QUI-TEN “deliglitetli to lrouoiir." I\s'lttlrlslt- rirvnt is loudly iu\'prc-soil that it is neither arcti- bishop nor bishop. lil‘llltt‘l’ art-.lidcitv'oii nor any til the great et-clesiastit al liti-rrircliy who is thus lri;_-h- ly tlistiiigttislred, but a simple cotiiitty clergyniatt. And than the sermon itself. ls it doctrinal. or practical? Is it lligii (Jhtirch, Low Church, Dry Church, or lniitutlir-ariati? What tiiartrier of doctrine is it that is so acceptable to Royal ears as to induce the Queen to depart from tisual cus- toml Mr. Ctiird is ol' those preachers who con- descend to be plain and practical—we lisd nearly said. intelligible ; and their number is so small that the present mark of Royal encouragement was much IIPellCtl. Romans, xii. ll, “ Not sloth- ful in busincsr:_/'cruent in spirit, serving tile Lord,” supplies him with a text, and his aim Is to prove that reli,-giori may beblended with the work of cirmmoii life—tliat, as God has made us dependent on work for our daily bread, so He has rendered it possible for us to live a life of fer- vent piety amid the tiiost engrossing worldly pur- suits. The preacher thus introduces his sub- ject :-

" 'l‘o comliirie business with religion, to keep up a spirit of serious piety amid the stir and dis- traction of ti busy and active life—tliis is one of the most diﬂicult parts of a Cliristian’s trial in

of business, the bustling tradccrtisn. the toil-iiorn

labotrrer, has little or tio time to attend to religion. As well tell us that the pilot, amid the wintls and storms, has no leisure to attend to navigation. or the general, on the field of battle, to the art ~t' war. “'licru will lie attend to it? lit-ligior. is not it perpcluztl rrioping titer good hooks‘. religion is not even prayer, [tI:tlsl‘, holy o tllll.Illt‘i‘S ; tlr~.-ct tire rtcct-ssary to icligion—rio iri:iii can h..- It'll-_'ltI‘.i3‘ uiiliont tlicni. lint reliigion, I r(‘l)l':il, is. maiiily zinil t-liirtly, tho plorifyiiig of (lo-.l arrrid tho (lull(’5 and trials oftlie \iorld—the guzding our course. artiiil tho tiilvvrsc \\ inds and (‘.lll’l't‘Iils ot temp- tation, by the starlight of duty and the conipass of divitic trtith——tlio hr-ariiig us manfolly, wisely.

i(‘ttu|‘i|2Et)tlBl_V, for the honour of Christ, our great

Leadi-r, in thc conflict of lifo. Away, their, with the notion, that niinisters antl devotees may be reli- gious, but that it religions and holy lifu is itriprac- ticable in the rough and busy world. Nay rather, believe me, that is the proper scene, the peculiar and appropriate ﬁeld l'or religion—the place in wliicli to prove that piety is not a dream of Sun- days and solitary hours; that it can hear the light of day ; that it can wear well amid the rough jost- lings, the hard struggles, the coarse contact of common life—tlie place, in one word, to prove how possible it is, for a man to be at once ‘ not slothful in business,‘ and ' fervent in spirit, serv- ing the Lord.’ ”

Religion (pursues Mr. Caird) consists not so rriucli in doing spiritual or sacred acts as in doing secular acts from a sacred or spiritual motive. lloly work itself, it may be—and with multitudes who frequent our churches is—degradcd into work must worldly, most unholy.

" liut, on the other band, carry holy principles with yoit into the world, and .lie world will be- come hallowed by their presence. A Christ-like spirit will Christianiza everything it touches. A meek heart, in which the altar-fire of love to God

this world. It is comparatively easy to be religi- ous in the church—'.u collect ottr thoughts and OJlI\pt).‘lB our t'celiii,r.:s, and enter, with air appear- ance of propriety and tlt:‘Clll'lllll, itito the offices of religious \vor.~iliip, amidst the qirictude of the Sab- bath and withiti the still and sacred precincts of the house of prayer. But to be l't’ll;:l(lll9 in the wurltl—to be pious and holy :tnil i-arncst-ttiitiiled in the counting-liiiiise, the iriatitifacto y, the mar- ket-plici-, the hold, tho fir-n—to mrry out otir good and St)lt‘l|ltI thoiitzlits illttl lt‘(‘.llllﬂS ittto the

tlinriiit-_1lil'.in- ufilutlv li|'»-—- this is the t,!H‘ill difii-,

culty of our L‘-lratsiiaii c.rlliiit_z. The |tlt.'-I ol reli- gion \\ll‘('ll is set It-rtli in the text, :i-r t-lscti'lrt‘rc itt Svripttirc. crime to iiiiplv that lt‘ll:.'ll|ll is not an tririttli .'a dirty, {Ii :i Still|"lllllI,\_' tiiiil lr:isr ltl tlll with all tlulltri. lt sirgzgcsts to us the ide.i that piety is nor that €yllI’l\||TilllV of mind is not tippropiiaic in one art of .u-tiotis Illrll an llllpr‘l'llllt‘ll(‘E and iiiiriisitrrt with rcferi-,iir-.i~. to others, but like the ac‘. i-I lin-ailr- iug, like the ciri-.ii|.ition of the blood. like the st- lent growtli of the statiirt-., a process that may be going on simultaneously viirh all our aoiions—- when we are lttlslesl, :is when we aro idle-st—in the church, in the world ; in solitude. in society : in our iirief and in our glstlnrss: in our toil and in our rest; sleeping, waking; hv day, by night—- amid all the eiigagenierits and exigencies of life.

Rictnnron is defined as 1-tr: an or suite. sun or notice, ooon :—

H To be an adept in it is to become just, truth- ful. sincere, sell"-deriving, gentle, forhesring, pure in word and thought and detail. And the school for learning this art is, not the closet, but the vrorld,—the coarse, profane, common world, wit!i its cares and temptations, its rivalries and com- petitions, its hourly, ever recurring trials of tem- per and character. This is, therefore. an art which all can practise, and tor which every pro- fession and calling, the busiest and most absorb- ing, slford ICO,t0 and discipline. is learning to write. it matters not of what words the copy set to him is composed, thstliing desired being that, whatever he writes, he learn to write well. When a man is learning to be a Christian, it matters not what his particular work in life may be ; the work he does is but the copy-line set to him; the main thing to he considered is. that he learn to live well. 'l‘he l'orm is nothing. tho exe- cntion is everything. It is trite, incl.-ed, that prayer, holy readiniz. meditation, tho soleuiuiiirs and services of the church, are necessary to reli- ion, and that these can be practised only apart

rum the work of secular life. But it is (0 be re- membered. (hot ollsuch holy esrrciim do not termin- ate in llmnsclvca. They are but steps in the ladder to ltsoimi, good only as they lrelp us lo climb.‘ No man can be a tliorouizh proﬁcient in naviutioii who has never been at sea, though he may learn- the theory of it at home. No man cart become a soldier by studying books on militsry tactics in Ills closet: he must in actual service acquire‘ ttinso Iasbits of coolness, courage, "discipline, Idtlrcu, rapid combination. without which the most learn- otl'in the theory of strategy or enginecrinlz will In but a schoolboy soldier after all. And, " ' aims way, a man in solitude and stiitly i. -i_v be- . one s most learned tlir-ologisu. or inriv train him- self into the timid. qﬂi-minolc picly ofwluu is lech- ssically celled ‘ ﬂu religious life.’ it: never, in (As highest and our sense. can lie ltmrme o r:-li-

5 3' o

.rlntiol, or rccialonco to temptation, of limi- gugs, gonrleum, Iuunilily, syrnpollry, ouioc benr_/i-

usc. which on to be acquired only in daily cnrtlucl

for ."iiutl.rys only, liirt for all days ;.

When a child‘

is burning, will lay hold oftlte coininoncst, rudest things in life, and transtnute thcrri, like coarse fuel at the touch of fire, into a pure and holv ;llatne. If you are it sincere Christian, it will be ,your great desire, by God's grace, to make every jgift. talent, occupation of life, every word you lspeak, every nctiori you do, subservient to Chris- ittan triotive. Your coiivcrsatiori may not always !—na\. may at-lilotn, save with your intimate ‘l.l’l€tttls‘-Ctillilﬁl. of foririiilly religious words; you jrnay [)l'lll7||'B shrink from the introiluctioii of reli- gious topics in general society : but it deiiiatids a less atniititit of Clirisllrn elliirt ticc:tsion:illy to speak H! igiotrs words, than to infuse llirr spi.-il of rr.-ligirnt into all our ivords; aml i/‘I/ic w/role f(‘ll0llI‘ ofour common loll." be ]ll‘t.'l.'a(/ul by rt spirit of pit’! , grit!/cncss, mrrttslncss. siriccril_1/. it will be a c/irrs- liun com-ersalioir not the loss. ll‘Uotl has endow- fotl you with itttellccttiil gifts, it may be well, if yiiii directly tlcvoto them to his service in the re- ,|igious instruction of others; litit ti man may be :i Lflliristiati tliiiikcr and writer as much when given to science, or history. or biography or poetry, as writing hymns. To promote the cause of Christ directly, by lurtliering every religious and nits- ,si-inary enterprise at home anil abroad,is undoubt- ‘cdly your duty ; but rernerriber that your duty ter- ‘ttiinates. not when you have done all this, for you may promote Christ's cause even still more effect- ually, when in your daily demeanour—-in the fami- y, in society, in your business transactions, in all your coittmon intercourse with the world, you are diffusing the inﬂuence of Christian principle a- round you by the silent eloquence of a holy life. lise superior, in Christ's strength, to all equivo- cal practices anrl sdvsuttsges in trade ; shrink from every approach to meanness or dishonesty: let your eye lived on a reward before which earth- ly wealth grows dint beam with honour; let the thought of God make you st-lfrestrained, temper- ate, watchful over speech and conduct; let the abiding sense of Christ's redeeming love to you Intake you gentle, self-denied, kind, and loving to tall around you ;—then indeed will your secular I life become spirituslised, while, at the same time, your spiritual life will grow more fervent: then “not only will your prayers become more devout, but when the knee bends not, and the lip is silent, the life in its heavenwsrd tone will ‘ pray with- out ceatring ; then from amidst the roar and din of oartlrly toil the ear of God will Iiear the sweet- est anthems rising ; then, ﬁnally, will your daily experience prove, that it is no high and unattain- alila elevation of virtue, but a simple and natural thing, to wlilch the text points, when it bids us be both ‘ diligent in husitiess’ and fervent in spirit, serving the Lord.’ "

l !

i Dsirrrr or Roosits rits Pour.-On the morning of Tuesday, December 18th, mot-.l Rogers, the author of“ Pleasures of Memory,” and “ Italy,” died at his eni- tlcncu in St. James’ Place, London, He had reached the great age of ninety-three your-s, having been born at Ncivington Gr-ocn, it village now swallowed up in Lon- don, in the year 1762. His grandfather wits it “ gcntlemttn;"thttt is to say, he lived at hiscnse, without profession or ollier bu- siness. His father, however, became ti bunker, and amassed a fortune, which, de- sci-nding to his son, the poet, mtido liiiri one of the ricliest, commoners, and tnucli the

ssimoisisklnd. Tsll us not, ttisn, itiutrso titan

riclrsst poet in England.

No!-—VVo were all reformers. Mr. Gladstone reminds us that the late Cabinet was on the point of oﬂ'cring it scheme to Pat-liurrient for tire entire tibolution of pa- tronage arid the opening of public offices to iiiiivcrsal rnci-it. But this is no new lzirigiingo. Evcry iittttcsrniin ivc have had, Iioiii Mr. Pitt to Lord John Russell, has (lt!.~lt‘l'li)Cd the miseries of tho ptrtrori, and pronounced the sentence of ‘ vanity ’ upon political power. 'I‘|ie truth is, this is it jolrbirig, canvassing, soliciting, iitid car- wiggiizg nation, and the very lirst intima- tion u man has is that he is to bo asked for everything. We are not supposed to have tnucli inﬂtience with Governmcnt—tlint is, nobody writes to us to intcrccde with Lord Palmerston for the bisliopric of Batﬁn’s

ay, or with Sir Cornwall Lewis for the letter-bugs ofthe Shetland Isles. We are only asked to poll every book, every socio- ty, every performance, every invention, every tradesmen in the country. It was a sensible man who said that ii child ought to learn to say ‘No.’ That ower is as im- portnnt in the political relations as in the domestic and social. If we are ever to bttve it really national system of education, let every child be instructed at least one hottr o-week in the prttctice of it kind and polite but must clear and peremptory nega- tive. Let it he taught how to reply, when it bad companion asks it to do wrong, when it cttndidtite asks for its vote, and when any- body risks for interest and patronage. At present foiv among us can any ‘ No,’ and the affairs ofthc nation are consequently in the hands ofmen who have prcsurnctl on this weakness. This is the rcnl objt-ct of all this desttltory movement for Atlininisti'a- tivc Reform; it is to say ‘No’ to inipoi-tu- rttttc iiicotrrpctcucy, to intrusive fully, to exclusive rank, to obstrtictivc stupidity, to aggressive tit-rogtiticc, nntl the other tiiiiii— liei-loss npplit-aiits that till the great unto- room of tho Static, and kccp otit triotlcst rncr'it.—-Tories.

I’.-\.\lll.Y (IOVI-IR.\'.\lEl\"l‘.

Tlrcrc is, in sonic lionsclioltl.-i, no fiiiriilv ;_ro\'ci‘riinvrit, no t)l‘(lt‘l‘, no .-iibtii-(limiting; 'l‘hc cliiltlrcri are licpt tltltl(‘I‘ no i-cstriiirit, but are allowt-d to do whirl they like; their faults are unnoticed and llnplllll.-‘llt'(l, and their tcrripcrs alloivcd to grow wild and lictidstrong; till in fact, the whole fainilv becomes tittcrly lntvlcss, rebelling agaiii:-it parcnlulntitliority, and unumiablc to all nr-ound them. How many have had to curse the over indulgence offond rind foolish parents! How many as they have rtiminn- ted amidst the desoltitions of poverty, or the walls of it prison, have exclaimed "O my over-fond parents, had you exercised that authority with which God entrusted

ou over your own children, and had you checked my childish corruptions, and pu. nislied my boyish disobedience; had you subjected me to the salutary restraint of wholesome laws,I had not brought you with is broken heart to your grave, nor my- self with II. rtiined character to the jail.

Over-indulgence is awfully common and continually making shocking ravages in human character. It is a system ofgr-eat cruelty to the children, to the parents themselves, and to society. This practice proceeds from various causes, in some instances, from a perverted and systematic seritimentnlisrn; in others, from rtbsolirtc indolcncc, and a regard to present case, which leads the silly mother to adopt tiny moans ofcoiixing, and yielding, ntid brib- ing, to keep the young rebels quiet for the time; in others, from a mistake as to the time when rcstrnint should begin, ti spirit of procrastination, which lends parents to say, I shall take them in hand by tiud by; there is no time lost; when their reason is it little irrorc niirtiircd, I shall lay upon them more rcstrnint;” and in some it is “mere unimitl affection," ivitlioitt tli guidance of it pttrlicloof judgment, a mere in stiric_t like that, which in the irrational trilics, leads to it blind and busy cure. It is not uncomriion l‘or parents to treat the first acts ofpucrilo i-clrellion, rather as frcnks to he smiled at, tlriiri its littrlta to be reform- ed. ‘‘0’' says tho mother” it is only play, "he will know bottt-r snort.” He does not mean " nny hat-tn, Icnnnot chide |iim,"| now; and if the liitlicr wiscrtlinn lrcraelf

oes, she cries, and perhaps, in the hearing;

l I i

“film phild rcpt-ovcs her husband for cruel- ily. It r-om ivlintcvetrmmse it proceeds, it is to the litglicst degree injurious to the cho- rtictcr ol the cliildi-en. Lct those who are _ guilty of it read the fearful commgm, on, “"5 Sin. which is furnished for their warn-' mg. in the history of Eli and his family. av. Jouiv ANGEL JAMES.

HOW THEY VOTE FOR SPEAKER.

The byaslliltgltltl corresporitlerit of the uflbanp Lurritng _Juui-ital, undcr date of Dec. 29, gives the following as the mode by which tltc House of Representatives vote for Speaker. The ittiportunce of the prin- ctple involved in the present struggle may be inferred frorri the patience with which the members day after day undergo the tedious process:—

_Soinc of the telegraphic and other pub- blishcd reports give erroneous impressions oftlie mode of voting for Speaker, by speaking of it as “ balloting." The pro- ccss is this. A Deputy Clerk rises slowly and distinctly pronounces the full name of each nieniber,—“ Mr. William Aiken,” Mr. (_,‘hnrlc_s J. Albriglit,” repeating it three times if there is no response; and so in alphabetical order through the two hundred and thirty-four. As his name was called, the member answers nlotid, “ Brinks,” or “ Richardson,” or wlioevcr he votes for. If lie_lias any explanation or remark to tnnke in reference to his vote, he makes, it, at the some tiine.—After the roll has been got through with, those who were absent 0|‘ did not vote when their names were cnllcd, {there are always ten or it dozen suc-lt,) rise ntid rcqucst their votes to be l‘t"ctti‘(lt'(l which is accordingly done. A_ second Deputy hits kept tally on rt pririlcd list, which he now |'i't'>'$(‘S over to tliooiio who called the roll. He made, “ Tliosc who voted for Ur. liicliartlson and l\l_i~ssi'.-‘. -——-,” &c., &c., and so on with rcl}-r-ciicc to thc others. Tliis recapi- ttilaition occupit.-s :-‘cvvii or ciglit minutes; cullirig the roll about iwe,,iy_ A [asp t)p]l()l'llllllly l5 Ilti\V lllliil'(l(‘,(l fur any nlyscnuic to record his vote. Firiiilly it third l)t-ptity who has liccri counting up, liuride the result tti ligirrcu to tho Clcrk, which lie ""“0“"CC9. " Barks 108'. Richardson, 6?," &c., Ste.

An idea may be formed from this, how tr-dious this process is. Six ciillings oftho roll without any dc-bate, occupy us much time as is usually spent in it daily session. Of course, every ten minutes the minority can waste in unnecessary talk, and every hulfhour they can compel to be wasted in calling the Yeas and Nays on frivoloug motions, is so much towards postponing an election for another do .

The most of the Democrats and Southern Know<Nothings sit on the right side of the House, the Republicans on the left, though there are of course, exceptions. All the longspeeches, it will be noted, come from the right. All the charges of “sectional. ism,” threats of “disuniori,” nonsensical °l""‘§°' Of " intrigue." “ personal cxpla. nations,” all the motions to “ adjourn," to "take it recess," and calls for the “ Yeas arid Nays,” come from the sauna quarter. The moment any one of these is disposed of, there begins on the left it mur- mur of “ Call the Roll ”—-wliich increases in volume, until the roll is called. This persisted determination of the supporters of Banks, to sit and vote, and vote until an organization is effected, and the equally persistent determination on the other gidg to frustrate and prevent it, are the most noticeable things in the struggle

o.:—_

Female Complaints —Miss Edwards, of Ysr. moitth,Novs Scotiii, aged 18. was for it long time in a very delicate state, the mother anxious. ly vvsiclietl lier dirtipliler, and consulted many physicians in the hope oi her being beneﬁted, but she rzradiiallv grew worse, and wss ﬁnally ihmwn on in bed of sickness. At this time, ﬁndin medical assistance unavailitio, the mother boldly determined to have recourse to Hollovvay’s Pills, which she commenced iising,—after the any ii-oi-Ir. the improt-erncnt vnss. so decided, that sh; determined to continue them, and by perssveriria for two months with the treatment laid down by Professor llollntvsy. the mother had the sstistsctioa of once more seeing her daughter restored to health, slilmuirli her life hsgl been previously despiiire of. Those calebnlod Piitg are a certain cure for dropsy, as well as atom“).

and liver complaints. .