teaching, in the name of our Lord Jesus.  And I am quite sure if we do so think and so act, although our differences of opinion might remain just the same, yet the change in ourselves, and I verily believe in the blessings which God would give us, would be more than we can well believe; and a general election, instead of calling forth, as it now does, a host of unchristian passions and practices, would be rather an exercise of Christian judgment, and forbearance, and faith, and charity; promoting, whatever was the mere political result, the glory of God, advancing Christ’s kingdom, and the good of this, as it would be then truly called, Christian nation.

NOTES.

* * * * *

NOTE A. P. 5.

“But our path is not backwards but onwards”—­This thought is expressed very beautifully in lines as wise and true as they are poetical: 

     “Grieve not for these:  nor dare lament
       That thus from childhood’s thoughts we roam: 
     Not backward are our glances bent,
       But forward to our Father’s home. 
     Eternal growth has no such fears,
       But freshening still with seasons past,
     The old man clogs its earlier years,
       And simple childhood comes the last.”

Burbridge’s Poems, p. 309.

* * * * *

NOTE B. P. 102.

“Some may know the story of that German nobleman,” &c.—­The Baron von Canitz.  He lived in the latter half of the seventeenth century, and was engaged in the service of the electors of Brandenburg, both of the great elector and his successor.  He was the author of several hymns, one of which is of remarkable beauty, as may be seen in the following translation, for the greatest part of which I am indebted to the kindness of a friend:  but the language of the original, in several places, cannot be adequately translated in English.

     Come, my soul, thou must be waking—­
     Now is breaking
       O’er the earth another day. 
     Come to Him who made this splendour
     See thou render
       All thy feeble powers can pay.

     From the stars thy course be learning: 
     Dimly burning
       ’Neath the sun their light grows pale: 
     So let all that sense delighted
     While benighted
       From God’s presence fade and fail.

     Lo! how all of breath partaking,
     Gladly waking,
       Hail the sun’s enlivening light! 
     Plants, whose life mere sap doth nourish,
     Rise and flourish,
       When he breaks the shades of night.

     Thou too hail the light returning,—­
     Ready burning
       Be the incense of thy powers;—­
     For the night is safely ended: 
     God hath tended
       With His care thy helpless hours.