minds of those who are anxious for the increase of good, when they see how much is attempted for the improvement of mankind, and that so much of this labour has been lost. Christian men must not, however, be discouraged at these checks, they must not be " weary of well-doing;" and they may be assured that their labour is not lost, though the time of reaping its benefits may not be yet.

But we should be very sorry to believe that all was growing "worse and worse:" and we cannot help thinking that there is much to encourage us, and to lead us to hope, that, under God's blessing, things in many cases are growing "better and better. We have headed this article with the word "Coachman." There was a time, and that within our own memory, when the drivers of stage-coaches were among the most profligate and reprobate set of men to be found in their station of life. Creditable persons could not well travel on the outside of a coach. The driver stopped at almost every ale-house on the road; and his coarseness, his sullenness and rudeness, his indecent language, and his profane oaths, prevented sober-minded people from wishing to be near him. But things are so much mended, among this race of men, that few persons are more civil, most of them are respectable in their characters, many of them very intelligent; and some of them appear to be anxious on the subject of religion.

A friend of ours lately travelled on the box with a coachman, who seemed to take a particular interest in all that concerned the services of religion; and, on the Sunday, when there was no journey, (and we wish it was so with all coaches), he regularly attended the services in his parish-church. My friend told me that he was much pleased to hear the remarks which fell from his companion, one of which showed that he did not consider religion to be a mere attendance at a place of worship, but that it should be seen in the spirit of the mind-in gentleness, meekness, and patience. "Sir," he said, "I like our minister, and I can listen to him, because he practises as well as preaches; I am sure he is a Christian,

because he has got the mind and the patience of a Christian. I drove him one day to the rail-road station, to go up to London. I knew we were late, and that he was very anxious to go. I brought him in time, but the bell had rung about a minute too soon, and when the bell has Well, rung, no new passenger can be taken up.' then,' said Mr.

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I must give it up.' Now, this seems to me, sir, to be the patience of a Christian."

V.

"TIME'S GONE."

LINES WRITTEN IN DECEMBER, 1839.

As o'er the fast receding year

I backward turn mine eye,

Tear rises quickly after tear,

And frequent comes the sigh.

The hours, the days, the months are gone!-
Time does not turn his course,

But forward ever journeys on

With quick resistless force.

Plan, fair intention, goodly deed
'Twas mine to form-to view;
But ere perform'd-with unseen speed
"Time's gone!"-we can't pursue.

O let me then look back no more,
But forward turn my sight,

To days that may my hope restore,

My longing soul delight;

That neither day, nor month, nor year

May e'er unheeded flee,

Till time expire-and peace appear
Blest with eternity.

SOCIALISM.

B.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE COTTAGER'S MONTHLY VISITOR.

*

SIR,-There has been so striking an example of the mischievous consequences of Socialism in this place, and the facts show so clearly that those principles tend to the destruction of peace and security in this world, as well as of all happiness in the world to come, that I will relate them in the hope that they may prove a useful warning to your readers. If you think well to insert them in your

Monthly Visitor, it will perhaps be best to state that the facts are all true, and given just as they occurred.

I am Sir, with much respect,

Your obedient, humble servant,

E. A.

Thomas B. was a very steady, good lad, and carried out milk for a small farmer. He had lived five years with his master, who considered him perfectly honest, and therefore trusted him without fear his wages were fifteen shillings a week, with the advantage of being allowed to lodge and board at the house of the herd, where he received the milk, and also the permission to shoot rabbits; this last was a great thing, as there was a good market at the town, where he carried his milk, and rabbits sold for two shillings a couple.

At this time Thomas attended the Wesleyan, chapel, as his parents were unfortunately Methodists. I say unfortunately, because, though I believe many of the Methodists to be very good and pious people, yet we are always in some danger when we leave the communion of our own Church.

Thomas went regularly to the chapel on Sundays; and when he had carried out his milk, in the afternoon, would take his Bible, and read to himself, or to the daughter of the herdsman in whose house he lodged; thus spending his Sunday as a day of rest, and as a day devoted especially to the service of his Heavenly Master.

At this time all seemed to prosper with Thomas; he was a respectable-looking young man, had good clothes, wholesome food, a comfortable home, and a very thriving business: he was useful and contented, at peace with God and man. Dressed in his clean white frock, whistling merrily with his pails swinging at his side, and walking with that quick step that betokens a light heart, our honest milkman might be an object of envy to many who watched him daily pass their window. Alas! all this fair picture has passed away, and now I must show you a very different scene. Thomas is still to be seen carrying his milk-pails, and the pails themselves are more new and shining than before; his round frock has been exchanged

for a smarter coat, but his look is downcast, and his step slow-his master no longer employs him, and his old customers turn him from their doors. On Sunday you will not find him at chapel, or with his Bible in his hand. Alas, now, he is neither at peace with God nor man!

And what has caused this sad change? I will tell you, my readers, and hope it may prove a useful warning to all who hear it.

About two years since, some of the heads of the party, who call themselves Socialists, came to the town which Thomas served with milk. These men held meetings on the common, and preached, as they called it, to those who would go to hear them. At first many went, I am grieved to say; for though they knew that the opinions these Socialists held were contrary to the principles of the Bible, and that their clergyman wholly disapproved of them, yet they were curious to hear what these men said, and eager to judge for themselves. They did not consider how closely they were following the example of our first parent, Eve, when she eat of the forbidden fruit. She first went to look at the tree, and it was not till she saw that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, that she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat."

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One person attended the meeting from a better motive; -he went prepared to answer the Socialist, and to endeavour to lessen the wrong impression likely to be made on the minds of those who heard him. As soon as the lecture was finished he begged leave to speak, and exposed the errors and false views of the speaker they had just heard, and exhorted the people to hold fast to the sound principles of true religion, and remember what St. Paul told the Galatians, "If any man preach any other gospel unto you than that which ye have received, let him be accursed."

The Socialists left the place in a few days, but they had scattered the bad seed, and it soon sprung up, and brought to maturity the poisonous fruit. Such mischievous tares are not difficult to plant; they do not require an honest and good heart for their soil, but will spring up most easily among corruption and impurity.

One unfortunate man became a willing convert: he was a butcher, and a man of very bad character, he was willing to believe that there was neither God nor judgment. It was glad tidings to him to hear that the justly offended Maker whom he dreaded had no existence, and the punishment which he expected was only a bugbear invented by man to frighten his fellow-creatures; so true is it that rulers are not a terror to good works, but to the evil." This man knew that God had said, "No whoremonger nor unclean person hath any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God:" he knew that God had also said, "the Son of man shall send forth his angels, and they shall gather out of his kingdom all things that offend, and them which do iniquity, and shall cast them into a furnace of fire: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth."-This man knew that he was a whoremonger and an unclean person, one who did iniquity, and that this must therefore be his portion :-he believed and trembled. Was it not, then, glad tidings to such a one to be told that there was no God, no Judge, no hell-fire? This was the man who was the ruin of Thomas. Bad as his character was, Thomas became his friend and companion, listened to his profane jests, read his infidel books, and soon made use of his fancied liberty to become the slave of sin. He thought when he forsook the service of God that he was free, and his own master; but, in truth, he had left an all-merciful and gracious Master to serve the devil, the hardest of all taskmasters, and this he soon found, and found, too, that even in this world "the wages of sin is death." I will tell you the way in which Thomas was first led astray, for that is important to know. He had not, like the butcher, attended the Socialist meetings, but he read the books that they dispersed,-it was not in his case itching ears, but wandering eyes. He did not read these books for the sake of becoming wiser and better. No; when he first took them to read he believed them to be false and wicked, and he read them from curiosity. I do not know whether the butcher gave Thomas the books, or whether he bought them in a shop, but I know that he was very wrong to read them, and that it was in this way he fell into temptation.