THE EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. much. When the season of prayer is over, she leaves her chamber with a spirit refreshed and invigorated-with a mind untroubled. She has left all in the hand of God. The serenity of her soul is visible in her countenance. It sweetens every duty, and influences all her conduct. Praying mother, surely thou art blest! THE EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. [THIS admirable summary of the leading evidences for the truth of our "most holy faith," we take from a lecture delivered at the opening of the Free Church Divinity Hall, Aberdeen, by Professor M'Lagan. The whole lecture is well thought and beautifully written, and is eminently worthy of the perusal, not only of ministers and students, but of private members of the Christian Church.] 607 Sacred Scriptures, and partly in the character and tendencies of the revelation which they contain. In the former point of view, the Bible itself is a standing and an astonishing miracle. Written fragment by fragment, throughout the course of fifteen centuries, under different states of society, and in different languages, by persons of the most opposite tempers, talents, and conditions, learned and unlearned, prince and peasant, bond and free-cast into every form of instructive composition and good writing, history, prophecy, poetry, allegory, emblematic representation, judicious interpretation, literal statement, precept, example, proverb, disquisition, epistle, sermon, prayer-in short, all rational shapes of human discourse and treating, moreover, of subjects not obvious but most difficult, not worldly but spiritual; truths so vivid that, when grappled with, if they do not quite subdue a man, they make him the more a rebel, and which profess to determine the colour, not only of this fleeting life, but of an awful eternity. Treating of these, its authors are not found, like other writers, contradicting one another upon the most ordinary matters of fact and of opinion, but are at harmony upon the whole of their sublime and momentous theme; nay, they contribute their shares to its complete development, each according to the requirements of his own time, and in ignorance usually of what was to be supplied by others; so that Moses, for example, gives a brief extract from the history of Melchizedek, the true intent of which is first pointed at by David, while it is reserved for Paul to bring out the full glory of its typical and prophetic import. The result of all is this, that just as the great lights of our physical heavens never could have exhibited those orderly phenomena, the recorded observation of which, through successive ages, disclosed at length the mechanism of the solar system, unless the skill of the Creator had regulated throughout their aspects and their movements; even so the spiritual lights that shine upon us in the Scriptures, giving line upon line under one dispensation, and precept upon precept under another dispensation, here a little in one exigency of the Church, and there a little in another exigency of it, never could, in that dropping and scattered manner, have supplied the complete and consistent scheme of pure and undefiled religion which the aggregate of their writings actually contains, unless they had been illuminated and moved, from first to last, by the Spirit of God, who has all the truth before him at one view, and who sees the end from the beginning. The first place among subjects of this description is due to the evidences of Christianity-the proofs that our religion is indeed from God. The facts and arguments of which these consist have, by a word convenient enough, although more expressive to Greek than English ears, been designated "apologetics." Theologians have divided them into the external and internal evidences. The former-the external evidences-consist of proofs drawn from uninspired documents and extraneous facts, which conclusively show that the books contained in the canon of the Old and New Testaments are genuine, and are authentic:-genuine, as being the writings of those very authors to whom they are ascribed; authentic, as bearing credible, satisfactory, convincing testimony to the facts which they relate. These facts, again, being many of them miracles-distinct stupendous miracles-wrought by the hands of the writers themselves, and of their great Master, expressly to prove that the doctrines which they record are the revelations of God, it follows that these writings, claiming to be inspired, are certainly inspired indeed. Nor is this conclusion made good alone by the miracles of power which they narrate, but by the miracles of knowledge which they contain and exhibit: for they abound in prophecies, not ambiguous, not unconnected, not vague, not foreign in their accomplishment to the object of the prophet's mission; but clear systematic, pointed, pertinent, descriptive beforehand of whole series of events which, in their fulfil- But, if the mere record of our faith bears such ment long ages after the prediction, conduce to the signal marks of a heavenly origin, how much more very issues which the Gospel they bear witness to the truth itself, of which that record is the vehicle! contemplates and promotes. The success of their en- That presents to our souls the one living and true terprise, finally, corresponded entirely to the powers God, consummate in spiritual perfection, but espewhich these founders of the Christian religion claimed. cially glorious in his character as a just God and a Blameless and upright, but poor, and, with one exSaviour. It solves the mystery of man's earthly conception, unlearned; despised, yet at the same time dition as a creature of God, yet sinful; and born to hated and persecuted of all nations for their Master's trouble, yet not forsaken. It makes known, as dwellsake, they succeeded, by preaching a religion and ing for a season in the midst of us, a sinless Remorals altogether hostile to the prejudices and pas- deemer, humanly liable to all the sorrows and suffersions of men, in rooting up the old idolatry, confoundings of sinful flesh, yet bringing into the efficacy of ing the schools of Heathen philosophy, changing the habits and manners of society far and wide, and, in process of time, planting the profession at least of Christianity upon the throne of empire. These manifest exertions of supernatural power and wisdom on behalf of the Gospel, together with many collateral testimonies of no mean significance and weight, form, in their united cogency, the external evidences of Christianity. The internal, again, are calculated to set the seal of a most inward and most comfortable assurance upon the conclusions deduced from the other. They are found partly in the construction and fabric of the his vicarious toils and mortal agonies the all-worthiness and all-sufficiency of uncreated Godhead. Το this Saviour it impels or it conducts us, by the strongest faculties and instincts of our spiritual frame-by understanding, by remorse, by fear, by faith, love, allegiance, hope; and promising an operation of the Almighty Spirit to re-create into full perfection our degenerated nature, it teaches us, denying all ungodliness and worldly lusts, to live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present world, while we seek our home, our rest, and our inheritance, alone in the celestial paradise. Meeting thus the most secret sense and longing of the soul in the individual; providing equally, as it does, for the felt necessities and palpable well-being of men in their domestic, social, and political relations; doing this, too, by means which human philosophy never thought of, nay, means which, after discovery, far transcend our highest reason, yet, instead of contradicting it, bear a wonderful analogy to all that our eyes behold of the laws of nature and of Providence;-the doctrine of the Bible doing this, furnishes every man, who shall fully and prayerfully make trial of it, with the assurance of a most intimate and most imperturbable experience that the truth as it is in Jesus is in very deed the truth of God. These, and such as these, are the internal evidences of Christianity; and being such, it is at once apparent that they, most especially, can never be rightly appreciated and felt, but through the teaching of that Holy Spirit alone who gave them. DESIRE OF THE DYING FOR LIFE. ILLUSTRATED AND SUBdued. JESSIE M was born in the village of C. She was naturally of a delicate constitution, and a slight injury, which she received at play in her childhood, was the proximate cause of a complaint which confined her to the house for many years, and which at length issued in her death, at the age of seventeen. It is now approaching to ten years since the writer was privileged to visit her; but his remembrance has still a yesterday's freshness about it; and it is not less gratifying than it is fresh. He was comparatively a stranger in the place, and entirely so to her father's family, who belonged to a different congregation from that to which he ministered in holy things. He had never heard, even by name, of Jessie M-, till he had occasion to call on some other business; and, after it had been transacted, her mother came into the room and said: "I have a sick daughter--perhaps you will converse with her." The folding doors of a concealed bed in the apartment were straightway opened, and the first glance was sufficient to impress the conviction that, in all human probability, the youthful sufferer was in the last stage of a deep decline. Has the reader ever marked the features of this insidious disease? If he has, he need not be told that its victims are generally youthful, and that it often throws a mantle of uncommon interest around them. They are only beginning life. They cherish the expectation as well as the desire of enjoying it -a desire most natural to all, but especially to the young. And our sympathies are awakened by the conviction that this desire of nature is not to be gratified. They are often quite unconscious of the progress which their malady has made. They flatter themselves that they are getting better, when it is too evident that they are gradually sinking. They are dying, and they know it not, and few would like to tell them that they are. They dream of length of days when their sand is well-nigh run. It is a dream which one feels loath to disturb. It would be cruel to disturb it rudely; and yet, when the safety of the soul is taken into account, it would be still more cruel to allow them to indulge it. There is much in all this to excite emotion, but it is not by any means the whole of what combines to give a touching, melancholy interest to the picture; for the mind is frequently not only not impaired, but quickened and called into greater activity, by the wasting disorder that has reduced the body to a shadow. The mental powers are vigorous, while the physical powers are decaying. And when the bright eye, beaming intelligence; the pale full brow, indicating reflection; the cheerful, and sometimes buoyant spirits; the soul, elastic with generous affeetion; and the China-rose like beauty of the cheek, counterfeiting high health;-when all these are contrasted with the faded form, it is sometimes difficult to help indulging that feeling of regret which Henry Kirke Whyte, himself an early victim, has so well expressed, that "one so young should die so soon." But these regrets are vain-they are vain at all times, and in the case of a child of God they are something For "blessed are the dead that die in the Lord;" and, as the poet has it, "the less of this cold world, the more of heaven; the briefer life, the earlier immortality." worse. These remarks are suggested by the state of mind in which the writer found Jessie MHe very soon discovered that she understood the Gospel; that she was much impressed with the importance of attending to the knowledge of the things that belonged to her everlasting peace; and that, in as far as man could judge, she was already a meek and lowly disciple: but then it was obvious enough that she had no idea that she was dying-at least, she had no idea that her end was near; and the best way, perhaps, of communicating the lesson which her dying experience seems fitted to convey, may be to relate the following conversation, as nearly as possible in the words in which it took place. It may be relied on as being neither an exaggerated nor a coloured statement. "Have you a very strong desire for life, Jessie ?" To this she replied, with much earnestness and emotion: "O yes, very strong." And who could blame, or wonder, or reprove, or cast a stone at her? There are few who could do this; and yet there are just as few, perhaps, to be found, even among the people of God, who would make the confession with the same child-like simplicity. Many might give the same answer; but they would qualify it—they would throw in some palliating clause-they would say: "Yes; but I hope that I am resigned;" or, "I wish to be resigned;" or, "I try to be resigned." They would say this, or something like it, with a view to excuse themselves, and please the questioner; and it is possible enough that they might be disposed to think that they deserved some little credit for their resignation. But there was no such sexcusing plea adduced by her; and while her answer indicated much simplicity of character, it suggested the following observations in reply:- "Well, Jessie, in as far as I can understand the Word of God, there is nothing wrong in having a dsire for life, and nothing wrong in having a strong desire for life. It is one of those feelings which God himself has placed in our bosoms-it is the desire of nature. It was, doubtless, cherished by our first parents before they fell; and, if kept within due bounds, it is quite innocent. FAITH EXEMPLIFIED, &c. "True, it may be indulged to a sinful extent. It may obtain the mastery, instead of being subservient to the will of a heavenly Father; and thus, like every other human feeling, it may become a guilty one. But it is not so in itself; and, fortunately, I do not know any one topic, where the line beyond which a desire innocent in itself may become sinful, is more clearly drawn in Scripture than it is in the case of the natural desire for life. "For the Son of God himself obviously cherished this desire. His holy human nature shrunk from the load of his approaching sufferings. As a man he felt, and feared, and poured out his supplications with strong crying and tears unto Him that was able to save him from death.-Heb. v. 7. And he only gave utterance to the prayer of nature when he said: · Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me.' But, while he thus felt as a man, cherishing the desire, and offering the prayer of nature, he had that desire under the check of the most entire resignation to his Father's will. For he did not merely say: 'If it be possible, let this cup pass from me -he added, also, in the same breath: Nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt.' He thus drew the line beyond which it is a sinful thing to indulge this desire. He hath left us an example that we should follow his steps. He is not an High Priest who cannot be touched with a feeling of our infirmities, but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin; and he hath carried with him a fellow-feeling of our infirmities into the mansions of glory. He hath privileged us to offer his prayer; and it is our duty to do so under his check: If it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt.' And while we are graciously informed, for our encouragement, that his prayer was answered -that he was heard in that he feared-that an angel was sent to strengthen him-and that his human nature, which shrunk from his approaching sufferings, was supported and upheld by an immediate aid from on high-while we are informed of all this, we are thereby encouraged to cherish the good hope that his grace will be made sufficient for us; that his strength will be made perfect in our weakness; that we, too, shall be heard when we pour out our supplications with strong crying and tears; and that, if it should not be possible for the bitter cup to pass from us, we shall, nevertheless, be supported, and thus be heard in regard to that of which we are the most afraid." It was not necessary to inquire whether she understood and acquiesced in all this. It was plain enough that she had done both; and, after a slight pause, the conversation was resumed. "Do you think that the Lord Jesus Christ loves his own children?" She opened her keen consumptive eyes, and answered, with a manifest astonishment that such a question should ever have been put "Yes!" "Do you think that he knows what is best for them?" "Yes!" "Do you think that he is able to do what is best for them?" "Yes!" "Do you think that he is willing to do what is best for them?" "Yes!" "You don't think that he will deceive or desert them, or promise one thing and do another?" "O no!" 66 609 All these replies were given with the most marked surprise that the questions should have been put at all. But when she was asked: "Do you think that you love him yourself?" she turned away her eyes in one direction, and another, and another; and, after some little time, raised them up, and said with much earnestness, and with an indescribable simplicity: "Well, I think I do." "Well, then, Jessie, if you are one of his children and I most sincerely hope, and trust, and believe that you are-but if you be, I feel myself warranted, on the authority of the WORD OF GOD, to assure yon, in the very strongest terms in which it is possible for language to put it, that if it be for his glory and the good of your own soul, you will yet be as well, and strong, and healthy, as you ever were, or as you would ever wish to be. On the other hand, again, if it should not be for his glory and for the good of your own soul that you should be well, or that your life should be extended, would you yourself wish for it in that case?" To this she replied, with great emphasis: "Oh, never, never." "Well Jessie," was the answer, "I cannot tell you whether it be for his glory and your good or not; but he knows it himself. He encourages you to pray to him for length of days as well as for other blessings. You have his own word for it that, if it be for his glory and your good, you will certainly get it. It is only on these terms that you would yourself consent to have it. You would instantly reject it if it were offered you on any other terms than these. He and you, therefore, are quite agreed on this point. And oh, then, can't you try, in these circumstances, and roll the burden of your strong desire to live' upon himself? and you will thus be, by one care at least, the lighter." She had never seen this truth in the same light before. It was quite new to her; and when she saw, she received it with the most perfect simplicity of faith. No fabled charm was ever said to have wrought with greater efficacy than it did. She got a near view of Christ; and, like "Christian" in the "Pilgrim's Progress," her burden fell off at the foot of the cross, and she was never afterwards troubled with it. She was relieved from the weight that had borne her down for many weary years. The strong desire to live was no longer existing. It was extinguished. The first thing she said when her mother returned and found her alone, was: "Well, mother, I never knew that I was dying before." She said this without any apparent emotion, or surprise, or regret. The time was past when the prayer of nature was unchecked by the prayer of resignation; and the time had come when she could say with the "mcekness of wisdom: ""Not as I will, but as thou wilt." She lived for some six weeks after this, and her path was like "the shining light." Her progress in the divine life was rapid, and might be traced daily. She suffered much, but never uttered a murmur. When her sufferings were great, she would sometimes cry: "Lord Jesus, help me;" but there was no unwillingness to suffer. She had no will of her own different from that of her Redeemer. She took the cup, which it was not possible should pass from her, and received grace and strength to drink it. She endured unto the end, and was faithful unto death. She died in the good hope of a blessed immortality; and, doubtless, she is now in heaven. NINE REASONS FROM WHICH CHRISTIANS IN AFFLICTION MAY DERIVE COMFORT. First, Because trouble is the lot of all in this life. "Man that is born of a woman is of few days, and full of trouble."-Job xiv. 1. "Man is born unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward."-Job v. 7. Shouldst thou expect to be exempt, then, fellow-Christian, from the common fate of mankind? Surely not. Second, Because thy trials are not so severe as they might be. Notwithstanding thou art ready in the bitterness of thy grief to exclaim: "See if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow;" yet turn thine for a moment to that of others. Look at those in affliction within thine own immediate circle of friends, and ask thyself with whom of all of them thou wou'dest change. Methinks I hear thee answer: None. It is even now as in fabled days of Jore. Could we exchange our burdens for a while, each one would be glad to resume his own, in the happy consciousness of its being lighter than his neighbour's. eye Third, Because they are under divine permission. Satan had no power over Job to vex him until he obtained permission of God; and so of Peter- he desired to have him, that he might sift him as wheat. More than this, it may be by appointment. "Shall there be evil in the city, and the Lord hath not done it ?"-Amos iii. 6. "Shall we receive good at the hand of the Lord, and shall we not receive evil ?"— Job ii. 10. Let the remembrance, then, that it is from God, afflicted one, comfort thine heart, and subdue every rebellious thought. Fourth, Because they are an evidence of the faithfulness of God towards thy soul. The Psalmist considered his affliction as such evidence, when he said: "Thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me." Depend upon it, suffering one, thine afflictions are sent only because God seeth that thou requirest them; for "he doth not afflict willingly, or grieve the children of Acknowledge his faithfulness, and in the end thou shalt have cause to say: "It is good for me that I have been afflicted."-Ps. cxix. 71. men." Fifth, Because they are sent in love, and are an evidence of thy adoption. "As many as I love I rebuke and chasten."-Rev. iii. 19. "Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth. If ye endure chastening, God Idealeth with you as with sons; for what son is he whom the father chasteneth not? But if ye be without chastisement, whereof all are partakers, then are ye bastards, and not sons."-Heb. xii. 6-8. Cheer up, then, child of God, and rejoice in this love that thus honours thee with this evidence of thine adop tion. Sirth, Because God invites you to trust in him; and he is able to deliver. "Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he shall sustain thee."-Ps. lv. 27. Cast all thy care upon him; for he careth for thee. "He shall deliver thee in six troubles; yea, in seven, there shall no evil befall thee."-Job vi. 14. "Though the afflictions of the righteous be many, the Lord delivereth him out of them all."-Ps. xxxiv. 19. Put thy trust in him, then, and thou shalt not be confounded. Seventh, Because they are but for a season: "Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning."-Pa. xxx. 5. “He will not always chide, neither will he keep his anger for ever."-Ps. cili. 9. Even the trials of Job, numerous and severe as they were, had an end; for the Lord turned his captivity. And he will turn thine also, Christian, if thou be found waiting his time in faith and patience. May God give thee grace so to do! Eighth, Because Jesus suffered, and that for thee. Think of what he endured, and then ask thyself: What are my afflictions compared to his? Art thou poor? So was he. Art thon oppressed and perse- 1 crted? So was he. "In all our afflictions he was afflicted;" and he has assured his followers, that in this world they shall have tribulation; but he gra ciously adds: "Be of good cheer; for I have overcome the world." Remember the sufferings of Christ, then, fellow-sufferer, and count it all joy that thou art privileged to walk in his footsteps; we suffer, we shall also reign with him." for it 66 Ninth, Because you have a home in heaven, where there is no more sorrow, nor crying, nor pain. "la my Father's house there are many mansions”—“I go to prepare a place for you," said our blessed Saviour, as he was about to leave his troubled disciples here alone. And so he says now to the weeping saint. Think of this home, where "all tears shall be wiped away." Thy trials here will soon be over; and O how small will they appear when viewed from the heights of glory in yonder bright world! Stand fast, therefore, and thou shalt receive a crown of life. Be not overcome with present difficulties; "For though trials hard may press thee, THE NEW-YEAR'S NIGHT OF AN UNFORTUNATE. (Translated from Jean Paul Richter.) AN old man stood at the window on a new-year's night, and with a look of sad despair gazed up to the fixed, ever-bright heavens, and down upon the still, pure, white earth, on which no one was now so joyless and sleepless as himself. For his grave lay near by him, covered over with the snow of age, not with the green of youth, and he had brought with him, out of all the riches of life nought but errors, sins, and diseases-a wasted body, a desolate soul, a breast full of poison, and an old age full of re morse. The beautiful days of his youth glided around him to-night like spectres, and drew him back to that bright morning, when his father brought him to the the right in the path of religion to a broad, quiet land, turning point of life's great highway, leading on full of light and harvest; and on the left, down through the mole-tracks of vice, to a black pit, full of dropping poison of deadly serpents, and a gloomy, sultry vapour. Alas! the serpents hang upon his breast, and the poison drops upon his tongue, and he knew now where he was. In unutterable sorrow, and well-nigh bereft of sense, he cried out aloud: Oh, give me back my youth! Oh, my father, bring 66 FRAGMENTS. me again to the turning point of life, that I may make another choice, and give myself, not to the devil, but to God!" ago. But his father and his youth were gone, long, long He saw the meteor-light darting up from the marshes, and going out in the church-yard, and he exclaimed: These are the days of iny folly !" He saw a star glide from the heavens, glitter in its fall, and dissolve in the earth. "That am I," said his bleeding heart, and the serpent fangs of remorse pierced yet deeper into its wound. His excited fancy pictured creeping night wanderers on the roofs of the houses, the wind-mill lifted on high its threatening arms, and a mask that had been left behind in the house of the dead gradually took on his own features. In the midst of this conflict of emotion, the music of the new-year's night flowed down from the neighbouring tower, like the distant tones of a church lay. He was more gently moved. He gazed upon the far-off horizon, and around upon the wide earth, and he thought of the friends of his youth, now better and happier than he teachers of the world, the fathers of happy children, and blessed beings, and he said: "Oh, I too, had I been willing, might slumber as quietly as ye, and with as tearless eyes on this first night of the year! Oh, I too might now be happy, ye dear parents and friends, had i fulfilled your newyear's wishes and precepts!" In feverish recollection upon the times of his youth, it seemed to him that the mask, bearing his own features, lifted itself up in the house of the dead; at length by the working of that strange superstition, that sees phantoms and spectres in the shades of the new-year's night, it seemed to gather itself into the form of a living youth-in the attitude of the Youth of the Capitol, plucking a thorn from his foot; and his own figure, in all the bloom of the spring of life, was in bitter mockery played out before his eyes. He could look no longer he covered up his eyes a thousand hot burning tears streamed down upon the white snow-he sighed out gently, comfortless and senseless, "Come back again, season of my youth-come back again, that I may make another choice, and not die God's enemy." And it came for all this had been a frightful dream. He was still a youth-it was only his wanderings-had been no dream. But he thanked God, that while yet young, he could turn back from the foul track of vice, and haste to the sunny path that leads to the bright land of harvest. Turn back with him, young man, if thou art in that erring way! This terrific dream will one day be thy judge; but if thou shouldst then cry out, in bitter lamentation: "Come back, beautiful season of youth!" it will never come back again. PUTTING RESOLUTIONS INTO PRACTICE. AT a dissionary meeting held amongst the Negroes in the West Indies, these three resolutions were agreed upon: 1. We will all give something. 2. We will all give as God has enabled us. 3. We will all give willingly. So soon as the meeting was over, a leading Negro took his seat at the table, with pen and ink, to put down what each came to give. Many came forward and gave, some more, and some less. Amongst those that came was a rich old Negro, almost as rich as all the others put together, and threw down upon the table a small silver coin. "Take dat back again,` said the Negro that received the money, "dat not be according to de second." The rich old man ac 611 cordingly took it up, and hobbled back again to his seat in a great rage. One after another came forward, and as almost all gave more than himself, he was fairly ashamed of himself, and again threw down a piece of money on the table, saying, "Dare take, take dat!" It was a valuable piece of gold, but it was given so ill-temperedly, that the Negro answered again, " No, dat wont do yet. It may be according to de first and second resolution, but it not according to the last;" and he was obliged to take up his coin again. Still angry at himself and all the rest, he sat a long time, till nearly all were gone, and then came up to the table, and with a smile on his face, and very willingly gave a large sum to the treasurer. "Very well," said the Negro," "Dat will do. Dat according to all de resolutions.” HOW EASY IT IS TO CAVIL. TALKING of persons who deny the truth of Christianity, and especially the truth of the testimony to the miracles recorded in Scripture, Dr Johnson said: "It is always easy to be on the negative side. If a man were now to deny that there is salt upon the table, you could not reduce him to an absurdity. Come, let us try this a little further. I deny that Canada is taken, and I can support my denial by pretty good arguments. The French are a much more numerous people than we, and it is not likely that they would allow us to take it. But the ministry have assured us, in all the formalities of the Gazette, that it is taken.' Very true, but the ministry have put us to an enormous expense by the war in America, and it is their interest to persuade us that we have got something for our money. 'But the fact is confirmed by thousands of men who were at the taking of it.' Ay, but these men have still more interest in declaring it. They don't want that you should think that the French have beat them, but that they have beat the French. Now, suppose that you should go over and find that it really is taken, that would only satisfy yourself, for when you come home we will not believe youwe will say you have been bribed. Yet, sir, notwithstanding all these plausible objections, we have no doubt that Canada is really ours. Such is the weight of common testimony. How much stronger are the evidences of the Christian religion!”—Boswell's Life of Jukusan. Fragments. debt, Augustus, the emperor, sent to buy his bed, When a knight died at Rome that was much in conceiving there must needs be some extraordinary virtue in it, if he that was so much in debt could take any rest upon it. An humble soul sees himself so much in debt for mercies in hand and mercies in hope, that he cannot sleep without blessing and admiring of God. Sirens are said to sing curiously while they live, but to roar horribly when they die. So will it be with those who give themselves to the world and refuse Christ. They may sing during life; but oh, when they die! The golden name of Christians is but an ornament to swine.-Calvia. Faith alters the tenses. It makes the future present. "Heaven is mine." Faith will pick an argument ont of a repulse, and turn discouragements into encouragements. It is a sad thing to be often eating of the tree of knowledge, but never to taste of the tree of life. |