The Rhode Island Republican

From the Emporium.
SATURDAY EVENING.

It is important often to call ourselves to solemn account for the time past of our lives, but particularly so at the close of the days, months, and year: And at the close of the week, when our toils are done, we may perhaps be seated at the door, or by the fire-side, with our families around us, and prattling babes about our knees, and a thousand little nameless comforts, which cluster together in our imaginations when we hear of Saturday night at home—at such a season, if we are people of any serious thought, our minds must, in some measure, be taken up with sober reflections. There is something peculiarly solemn in the eve of the Sabbath, in the return of labourers, and the preparation for rest, and the general feeling of enlargement. And even where we do not observe the eastern mode of commencing our Sabbath on Saturday evening, yet the Lord's day seems to dawn, and the cessation of cares to betoken something peaceful, and the expectation of approaching solemnities to claim the soul; so that the man must be peculiarly volatile, or peculiarly stupid, who is not, of necessity, thrown out of the common routine of his giddy, or his busy thoughts, when the ruddy streaks in the West are beginning to grow dusky, and the week seems fading away.

And what are the thoughts which a conscientious person would have, and which, of course, we all ought to have at such time? A week is past. Let my thoughts run through its business, and let conscience pass a faithful sentence. Am I a better man, a better husband, a better wife, a better neighbor—or whatever the duties which it lays upon me? Am I more satisfied with my conduct than I was the week before? If I am not, I have lived in vain. What have I done for the good of my neighborhood, what for the public good? How have I been prospered in business, and how have I shown my thankfulness by administering to the necessities of those around me? Are there sick, afflicted, strangers, in my vicinity? If not, is not this the most favored spot under heaven? And if there are, what have I done for their relief? If in none of those things I have been improving, I am living for myself, a selfish piggred, unworthy of the name of Man or Christian.—Am I better prepared for dying than I was last week? And when I look forward, how I am going to spend the next week; and what new resolution am I about to desecrate the Sabbath?—And what can I do for the good of others?

Those are, in truth, plain and simple notions, but they are such as often come into the head of a
Plain man in the Country.