nations, he abandons the service of his Heavenly Father. because the law of the latter does not admit of such indulgence. If he may not have his own way, he will enter the service of one who allows of every indulgence, and the greater the demands for indulgence the more he is pleased. Into the service of the adversary of God and of his own soul he enters, and spends his strength and his days in the practice of vice and crime.

Often does his Heavenly Father send after him, admonish him, and invite him back. Some christian, or some christian minister, who knows his earthly parents, and with what sorrow he is embittering their lives, says to him "Why will you die?" In some instances the sinner is melted to repentance-returns to his Heavenly Father, and mourns sincerely that he ever departed from him. But how often is he found, refusing the counsels of the pious how often, deaf to the voice of entreaty, and hardened against the word and the Spirit of God, does he wander still farther and farther;-miserable, yet proud; self-condemned, but obstinate;-afraid of the wrath to come, yet persisting in filling up the measure of his iniquity.

At length death approaches. Disease seizes upon his frame, or he forfeits his life by some heinous infraction of law. Horror stricken, he casts his eyes around for relief. Is there no help? Must he die and be miserable to all eternity? In this state of fearful apprehension, he sends for some minister of the gospel, or for some christian friend, to whom he unfolds his case, and whom he urges to plead his cause.

His wants are carried to the throne of the eternal, by the breath of prayer-mercy is sought-pardon is supplicated-reformation is promised. In this hour of alternate hope and despair, God in pity listens to the voice of supplication-the humble, broken-hearted sinner is pointed unto the Lamb of God, as one, and the only one, who can take away sin. Into the hands of the Father, through the blood of the Son, he casts all his interests, and finds peace to his troubled conscience. He died; but through the rich grace of God he is welcomed to a Father's house on high-a monument of mercy-truly a brand plucked out of the fire.

There are instances of the salvation of abandoned sinners like the one whom we have here supposed; the instances, however, are probably few. And because here and there one is thus rescued, and is accepted at the cleventh hour, is it wise to procrastinate?-is it wise to presume? Shall we sin, because grace abounds; and continue in sin, in the anticipation that grace has no limits? There is one instance on record in the Bible, of a sinner's being accepted in his dying moments-the penitent thief. An old divine has somewhere said, that "this one instance was recorded, that no sinner might absolutely despairand but one instance was given, that none should presume."

Pray without Ceasing.

A NUMBER of ministers were assembled for the discussion of difficult questions, and among others it was asked, "How the command to pray without ceasing could be complied with? Various suppositions were started; and and at length, one of the number was appointed to write an essay upon it, and read it at the next meeting; which being overheard by a plain sensible girl, she exclaimed, "what! a whole month wanted to tell the meaning of that text? It is one of the easiest, and best texts in the Bible." "Well," said an old minister, "Mary, what can you say about it? Let us know how you understand it. Can you pray all the time?" "O yes sir." "What! when you have so many things to do ?" "Why sir, the more I have to do, the more I can pray." "Indeed! well Mary, do let us know how it is, for most people think otherwise."

"Well, sir," said the girl, when I first open my eyes in the morning, I pray, Lord open the eyes of my understanding;' and while I am dressing, I pray that I may be clothed with the robe of righteousness; and when I have washed me, I ask for the washing of regeneration; and as I begin my work, I pray that I may have strength equal to my day. When I begin to kindle up the fire, J pray that God's work may revive in my soul; and as I sweep out the house, I pray that my heart may be cleansed from all its impurities; and while preparing and

partaking of breakfast, I desire to be fed with the hidden manna and the sincere milk of the word; and as I am busy with the little children, I look up to God as my Father, and pray for the spirit of adoption, that I may be his child, and so on all day. Every thing I do furnishes me with a thought for prayer." "Enough, enough," cried the old divine, "these things are revealed to babes, and often hidden from the wise and prudent. Go on Mary, pray without ceasing. And as for us, my brethren, let us bless the Lord for this exposition, and remember that he has said the meek will he guide in judgment.

The essay, as a matter of course, was not considered necessary, after this little event occurred.

Religion no Enemy to Pleasure.

ONE cause which impedes the reception of religion, even among the well disposed, is the garment of sadness, in which people delight to suppose her dressed, that life of rigid austerity and pining abstinence, which they pretend she enjoins on her disciples. And it were well if this were only the misrepresentation of her declared enemies; but unhappily, it is the too frequent misconception of her injudicious friends. But such an overcharged picture is not more unamiable than it is unlike; for, I will venture to affirm, that religion, with all her beautiful and becoming sanctity, imposes fewer sacrifices, not only of rational but pleasurable enjoyment, than the uncontrolled dominion of any one vice. Her service is not only perfect safety but perfect freedom! She is not so tyranizing as passion, so exacting as the world, nor so despotic as fashion. Let us try the case by a parallel, and examine it not as affecting our virtue, but our pleasure. Does reigion forbid the cheerful enjoyments of life as vigorously as avarice forbids them? Does she require such sacrifices of our care as ambition, or such renunciations of our quiet as pride? Does devotion murder sleep like dissipation? Does she destroy health like intemperance? Does she embitter life like discord, or abridge it like duelling? Does religion impose more vigilance than suspicion, or half as many mortifications as vanity? Vice has he:

martyrs; and the most austere and self denying ascetic, (who mistakes the genius of christianity almost as much as her enemies) never tormented himself with such cruel and causeless severity, as that with which envy lacerates her unhappy votaries. Wordly honor obliges us to be at the trouble of resenting injuries; but religion spares us that inconvenience, by commanding us to forgive them, and by this injunction consults our happiness no less than our virtue; for the torment of constantly hating any one, must be at least equal to the sin of it. If this estimate be fairly made, then is the balance clearly on the side of religion, even in the article of pleasure.

Rowland Hill.

A PIOUS Woman, a member in Surrey Chapel, was married to a husband who, though very kind to her, and, in many respects, a moral man, had no sense whatever of religion, but delighted in spending the hours in drinking beer, which she spent in attendance on the preaching of the gospel. It so happened that the parties, through some disappointment in business, had been unable to pay their rent on a particular quarter day. The consequence was, that a distraint on their furniture was put into their house, and a party was employed, as the technical phrase has it, "to take possession." After turning over every scheme in their minds which could suggest itself for extricating themselves from the difficulties in which they were involved, they were just about to resign themselves to despair, when the idea occurred to the wife, of submitting the whole circumstances of the case to Mr. Hill. She accordingly proceeded to his house, at once got access to him, and with no small degree of terror, made a short and simple representation of the state of matters.

"How much would you require to save your furniture, and to get rid of the person in possession ?" inquired Mr. Hill.

"Eighteen pounds, sir, would be quite sufficient for the purpose," answered the poor woman with a palpitating heart.

"I'll let you have the loan of twenty, and you can repay me at your convenience."

The heart of the other was too full to give utterance to distinct expressions of gratitude for so great a mark of kindness, on the part of her minister. He was too shrewd an observer of human nature not to perceive that the broken accents, and sometimes entire absence of words, which characterized her attempt to express her gratitude, afforded a far better proof of that feeling being at once deep and sincere, than if she had been the most affluent in words and most fluent in using them.

"Send your husband to me on your return home," said Mr. Hill, after the other had returned thanks in the best way her feelings would allow her; "send him to me presently, and I will have two ten pound notes, waiting him by the time he arrives. I wish to give the notes to him rather than to you."

Mrs. D. quitted Mr. Hill's house, and hurried home with light foot, but a still lighter heart. Having communicated to her husband what had passed between herself and her minister, it is unnecessary to say that he lost no time in proceeding to the house of Mr. Hill. The latter received him with much kindness of manner.

"And so," said he, "you are so unfortunate as to have a person in possession."

"We unfortunately have, sir."

"And twenty pounds will be sufficient to get rid of him and restore your furniture to you?"

"It will, sir."

"Well then," said Mr. Hill, pointing to the table, "there are two ten pound notes for you, which you can repay me when you are able. Take them."

The other hesitatingly advanced to the table, took up the notes and was in the act of folding them up, at th same time warmly thanking Mr. Hill for the act of friendship he had done him, and expressing a hope that he would soon be able to pay the amount back again; when the reverend gentleman suddenly exclaimed, "Stop a little! just lay down the notes again, until I ask a blessing on them."

The other did as he was desired, on which, the rever. end gentleman, extending both his arms, addressed a short