affect the deceased, but it hurt the feelings of the friends. It was one of Mr. J's little ways of doing good to give the sexton an extra shilling or two to make the pauper's grave the usual depth. And there he was to be seen in the churchyard superintending the work, and taking care that all was done right. In point of real benefit, this was of course nothing compared with the money and the food given to the living; but I know not that I ever met with an incident which more sweetly marked the kindness and benevolence of a Christian man. True love is indeed ingenious in its efforts to do good.

Mr. J. had tasted enough himself of the luxury of doing good, to make him wishful that others should do the same. His feelings too were almost overpowered by the distress which he witnessed in the poor town of and he felt naturally anxious to rouse others to a becoming exercise of charity. He had long wished to interest his highly respected landlord, old Lord -- in these things: and now a good opportunity occurred. Mr. J. had met with an extreme case of distress. I saw it myself, and never shall I forget the feelings it excited in Mr. J. There was a poor suffering woman unable to leave her bed, but with nothing but a bit of straw in the corner of her room on which to lie, and her crying children around her almost hungered. Mr. J. met Lord one morning in the street, just as he came from this scene of misery. After the usual salutations, "my Lord, (said Mr. J.) I do not think you have any idea of the sufferings of your fellowcreatures, even of some very near you. It is indeed true that one half of the world has no notion how the other half lives. Will you let me ask your Lordship to alight and go with me into a poor cottage close by?" Lord was as much the perfect picture of an old English gentleman of rank, as Mr. J. was of the farmer. Kind and condescending, and humane, he was beloved by his numerous tenantry and respected by all around him. But he laboured under the great disadvantages which are the lot of all in his exalted situation of life. He had flatterers, but no faithful friends; and knew nothing of the details of human misery, and I fear little of his own accountableness as a steward of the Most High. was once in his company, and oh! how I longed that

I

divine grace might reach the hall, as well as the farmhouse, and give to his Lordship that blessing of true religion, without which the fairest and the largest earthly property is nothing but vexation and toil. If the poor did but know the real state of things, they would see that the great and the noble are far, far indeed from being real objects of envy. I know how both rich and poor live, and consequently have grounds on which to form an opinion: and of this I am perfectly certain; that taking every thing into account, the poor man who is open to the services of a faithful enlightened minister and other Christian friends; whose cares and concerns are contracted within narrow limits, and who lives simply from day to day on the experience of God's covenant faithfulness and lovingkindness, is far happier than the man who is standing on the pinnacle of earthly greatness and wealth, insulated by his very greatness from the substantial friendship of human life, and effectually secured against every approach of truth (and if of truth, of happiness.) by a set of expecting flatterers and greedy hangers-on.

Lord at once complied with Mr. J's request; and leaving his horse with his servant, followed Mr. J. into the cottage. It was a new scene indeed to his Lordship; and on coming out, with his eyes full of tears, he thanked Mr. J. for making him acquainted with the real state of things around him; acknowledging that he could not have conceived it possible that such distress could exist so near his residence; and, giving him orders to supply every thing necessary, at his expense, he departed.

Mr. J. is long since gone to his heavenly home: but the me mory of his new life cannot soon die. It is such signs of grace as these, following the preaching of the Gospel, which shew that the Lord does indeed work with his ministers. We need not now the miraculous signs; they have done their work in fully establishing and accrediting the Gospel in the world; and after all, if they were vouchsafed, what are they in importance and desire compared with the gracious signs of the Holy Spirit on immortal souls? If I were to understand all mysteries, and had not love I am nothing. But oh! for more of that gracious influence amongst men, whereby the labours of a Christian min. istry cease to be a dead letter; and the drunkard becomes sober, and the lewd chaste, and the churl liberal, and the earthwormi heavenly; the wretched happy. I hope that some among va

may live to see the day when memory shall not have to travel back to former years, and into far distant countries, to meet with such instances as that of Mr. J. but when the minister of each parish shall find a new influence at work amongst his people; no new light, as the scoffer calls it, nor do I mean the introduction of a new dispensation; but the enlargement and consummation of the present dispensation of grace and mercy, and a fuller and more influential light beaming from the Sun of Righteousness into every soul. I believe that such glorious things are spoken of on behalf of Christ's church; and the faithful must pray for them without ceasing.

But I must return for one moment to the observation with which I started; that it is one of the first efforts of the Gospel to liberalize the heart. Mr. J. was, as you have seen, an eminent instance of this. But are there not many, even high professors of religion, who are outdone by those of a much lower standard in works of benevolence? Are there not covetous, selfish professors, who can spend pounds on their own finery, their children's whims, their hoardings up, and scarcely pence upon the poor and needy, and the various important charities which now-a-days justly claim our utmost support? Oh! reader; are you amongst the covetous and miserly professors of the Gospel? How awful your condition! You cannot serve God and mammon. Money is your god, your idol before whom you fall; and the true God is a jealous God and he will not share his glory with another. How pitiable your condition now! There may not be wanting high flown words and loud pretensions, but you know nothing of a Saviour's peace; of the good things which he gives to them who walk uprightly; of the glorious, lifegiving hope which they have who make to themselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness. And how frightful your prospect! Christ tells you beforehand what it is, and he describes your character. You cry, Lord, Lord, but do not the things which he commands you. And when he comes to judgment, he will not own you. Then the veil will be taken off. You will be seen in your true light. Then too the inquiry will be, not what you have professed, but what you have done; and if there has not been a labour proportioned to your means and the claims proposed to you amongst the suffering and needy of this fallen world, Christ will deny all knowledge of you; and that word, depurt, must be the kindling of an endless hell within you.

Oh! reader, take heed and beware of covetousness. If your heart has not been fully and widely opened towards Christ and towards all mankind for his sake, depend upon it all is wrong; all has yet to be begun. But his grace and power are Almighty, his love is infinite; and He who wrought such wonders in the case of old Mr. J. can make all new with you. Make haste, and flee for your life.

W.

EXTRACTS FROM KILPIN'S LIFE.

Psalm cxxvi. 6. No man shall ever attempt any thing for God, without being blessed by him. He that goeth forth with handfuls, shall return with sheaves. It is part of the counsel of heaven, that no one shall succeed, except he goeth forth weeping. When God ratified his covenant with Abraham, it was not till Isaac had been laid upon the altar. It was not till Joseph had wept all the way from Canaan to Egypt, that the seed could be sown for the supply of his family. David could not sit firmly upon his throne, till he had been hunted upon the mountains. The handfuls of corn upon Calvary could not be spread abroad, till the cross had borne its victim. The martyred disciples' blood must bedew the earth, before the apostles could sow the seed. The missionaries in the East first wept over all their printing presses consumed, before the Bible could be spread there.

If the love of Christ does not constrain us, and bear us down like a torrent, much cannot be done for God, or for our fellow creatures, amid such indifference and deadness: the objects one would wish to serve, appear unwilling to receive the blessing. Moses had need of more patience to bear with the children of Israel, than with Pharoah and all Egypt. They were more troublesome to him. Sometimes I think, "if the people will perish, let them perish;" but then, I think, where should I be, if the Lord treated me thus? He planned, pleaded, persuaded, and at last, plucked me as a brand out of the fire. Thus must we proceed, expecting all from God. Then we shall reap, if we

faint not.

Low ground is best for sinners, but we must not look on the ground. Look up, and you will not fall, is a sentence that has often done me good. It was occasioned by a poor boy's expres sion. He was in an orchard, upon one of the trees; and his head becoming giddy, he cried out to his father, "Oh I shall fall!" "Look up, (says the father,) and you will never fall.” It has struck me forcibly many times since. Look up to the cross of Christ, the Lamb of God; be all your hopes and mine in him, and then his hold of us will be our security, and our hold of him, our comfort. It is a cheering fact, that no one can use either spiritual hammer or sword with simplicity of heart, but God the Holy Ghost will bless the attempt.

JULY.-H 3

Dr. Marshman preached from the text, "O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?" He remarked, that often the Christian found it more perplexing to commit the keeping of his bodily and temporal wants into the hands of God, than the things of his soul. He exclaimed, my brethren, why are ye so fearful? your God has given you the greatest gift; will he, think you, deny the lesser? the least when compared to his Son? It requires more grace to forgive you the sins of the present service, than to supply your wants if you live for a century. You fear not but he will forgive your sins, yet you doubt whether he will supply your daily necessities. Oh ye of little faith! Keep looking for, that is, expecting the mercy of our God, through Jesus Christ our Lord, unto eternal life. Expect nothing but mercy, and you will please God, and he will take pleasure in you. Oh! what sweet words are these, he taketh pleasure in them that fear him, in them that hope for his mercy. Do not fear death, do not fear dying. "Fear not, says our Lord, for I am with thee." Lay hold of that one letter I, I am with thee."

About six months ago, a very respectable young person called one day, and said she should like to have some tracts. I gave her some; she returned them in two or three days, but unread. I offered more with this remark, "you must pray over them, or they will do you no good." "I shall not pray, (said she to herself,) I never did such a thing." Still the words you must The end of the tale is, she is now, and has pray, remained. been for these four months, a praying person. Today she told me, all things were new to her. A new birth, new company, new feelings, new desires: adding, "I had been lost, but now through mercy I hope in our Lord Jesus Christ." This is the blessed effects of tracts.

A little boy was a constant attendant at morning prayers in all weathers. One Lord's day, his shoes were worn out, and his mother did not let him come. He begged that he might. She said, "you cannot; you have no shoes." "Shoes, mother," said he with great eagerness: "the great God don't look at shoes. It is the heart." Mr. Kilpin says he took his old shoes and ran away to join us. One night he woke about one o'clock, saying, "mother, oh! mother, I forgot to say my prayers, what I shall do?" "Lie still, my dear, and lay in bed; it is