he saved the crucified malefactor. The presumption of which many are guilty in persevering in acknowledged error against light and knowledge, and the hypocrisy of some when under spiritual alarm, is not to bar the door of mercy against the true penitent, wherever and whenever his repentance takes its rise on this side of that grave, beyond which there is no repentance. For

if the wanderer his mistake discern,
Judge his own ways and sigh for a return;
Bewildered once, must he bewail his loss
For ever and for ever? No-the cross!
There, and there only, (though the deist rave,
And atheist, if earth bear so base a slave ;)
There, and there only, is the power to save.
There no delusive hope invites despair;
No mockery meets you, no deception there.
The spells and charms, that blinded you before,
All vanish there, and fascinate no more.

This memorial of one of their own class, speaks loudly to men of business. You are necessarily much occupied in the duties of your calling. But those duties, like all other things of an earthly nature, as objects viewed through a mist, may be enlarged in your sight far beyond their true magnitude. You may, you often do, toil on for three parts of a century, and yet acquire no adequate recompense for your

labour. Yet, amidst the fluctuations and uncertainties of mercantile pursuits, success may attend your plans and toils. You may amass property. You may become rich. But you may not in this world have your eyes opened to discern the intrinsic value to yourselves, which attaches to accumulated wealth. When abused to the entire occupation of the heart and life, it is stigmatized by the divine penman as. "filthy lucre." In my dying parishioner's eyes, purged as his sight was from the films which had hitherto beclouded it, wealth, unimproved to the glory of God and the good of man, seemed but "a heap of muck." The man who is greedy of filthy lucre for its own sake, or for the temporal pleasures and honours it can purchase, drowns himself in a fountain which ought to water all around him. That is no mean passage in Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, which represents the Interpreter taking Christiana and her companions "into a room, where was a man that could look no way but downwards, with a muck-rake in his hand; there stood also one over his head with a celestial crown in his hand, and proffered him that crown for his muck-rake; but the man did neither look up nor regard, but raked to himself the straws, the small sticks, and dust of the floor." Then said Christiana, "I persuade myself that I know somewhat the meaning of this: for this is the figure of a man in

this world; is it not, good sir?" "Thou hast said right," said he, "and his muck-rake doth shew his carnal mind. And whereas thou seest him rather give heed to rake up straws and sticks, and the dust of the floor, than to do what he says, who calls to him from above, with the celestial crown in his hand; it is to shew, that heaven is but as a fable with some, and that things here are counted the only things substantial. Now, whereas it was also shewed thee, that the man could look no way but downwards; it is to let thee know that earthly things, when they are with power upon men's minds, quite carry their hearts away from God." Then said Christiana, "Oh! deliver me from this muck-rake." "That prayer," said the Interpreter, "has lain by till it is almost rusty, Give me not riches, Prov. xxx. 8. It is scarce the prayer of one in ten thousand. Straws, and sticks, and dust with most, are the great things now looked after."

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L EVERY well authenticated instance of judgment, following close upon the footsteps of daring offenders against the laws of heaven, is a valuable, though an awful evidence of God's immediate superintendance of human actions, and goes to establish the doctrine of a particular providence. The occasional and palpable supernatural interference of God, which mankind are called to witness, more impressively demonstrates, that, doubtless, "there is a God that judgeth the earth," than if retribution universally and instantaneously overtook transgressors. Under the existing dispensation of this world's affairs, the Lord displays the high perfections of his character in lovely harmony. Propitiated by the offering of his Son, while "justice and judgment are the habitation of his throne, mercy and truth go before his face." He does not the less intently observe his offending creatures, 3 nor the less abhor their iniquities, though he pities and forbears to crush them by the thunderbolts of his e wrath. The general tenor of his ways appeals to the

hopes and fears, to the hearts and consciences of men.

"Despisest thou the riches of his goodness and forbearance and long-suffering; not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance? But, after thy hardness and impenitent heart, treasurest up unto thyself wrath against the day of wrath and revelation of the righteous judgment of God; who will render to every man according to his deeds." But the Lord has given to the world many recorded, and angbretto more unrecorded illustrations of his word, "My Spirit as darent, 9

shall not always strive with man." Now and then he cometh out of his place, and fearfully makes known his power, his justice, and his holy indignation.

When I entered on my charge at C—————, my excellent predecessor one evening conducted me round -agrasb vk to several cottages, occupied by persons or families in denbur whom he felt an extraordinary interest. Among these, bas Mary M

was one. She was a woman in years; and when we entered her lowly dwelling, was sitting in a corner of her spacious chimney hearth. We conversed with her, and received from her own lips a a sid to confirmation of the circumstances which I am about aid to rotsjidad or to detail, and concerning which I often afterwards 2906 3 made more ore minute inquiries. She had been accustomed to wash for a neighbouring farmer, and, on @attig 9.1 one occasion, something being missed, she was questioned about it, without any express suspicion of her honesty. She was, however, so highly offended at

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