with another, but that his own practice condemned his professed principles; and to what confidence, then, is he entitled in the highest questions with persons who have any value for consistency?

FOUR ADVICES.

1. CONSULT duty, not events.-There is nothing in the world for us to do but to mind our duty. To venture upon sin to avoid danger, is to sink the ship for fear of pirates, and must be reckoned amongst your greatest follies, your worst of sins. Is not their reason (questionless.their conscience is) dangerously distempered, that practically argue?" This way of duty may probably procure man's displeasure; and therefore, to prevent that, I will take the course which will certainly procure God's displeasure." Besides, by-ways will not lead you to the place you aim at. But, on the contrary, keep your consciences from being violated, and you cannot be miserable. O how calm and quiet, as well as holy and heavenly, would our lives be, had we learned but this single lesson-to be careful for nothing, but to know and do our duty, and to leave all effects, consequents, and events to God! The truth is, it is a daring boldness for silly dust to prescribe to Infinite Wisdom, and to let go our work to meddle with God's. He hath managed the concernments of the world, and of every individual person in it, without giving occasion to any one to complain, for above this five thousand years; and doth He now need your counsel? Therefore let it be your only business to mind duty. "Ay, but how shall I know my duty?" Take a second memorial:

2. What advice you would give to another, take yourselves.-The worst of men are apt enough to lay such burdens on other men's shoulders (Matt. xxiii. 4), which if they would take them upon their own, they would be rare Christians. For instance: The very outcry of those that revile godliness, who deal by the miscarriages of professors, as the Levite by his concubine-quarter them, and divulge them; even they expect, that those who make a strict profession of religion should be beyond exception blameless; and they, even they, scorn those that make any defection from their professed strictness. And, on the other side, those that are holy-they expect that even graceless persons should bear reproof, receive instruction, and change the course of their lives. In middle cases, then, between these extremes, what exactness will serious Christians require, where the bias of their own corruptions doth not misguide them? David was quite surprised to pass sentence against himself by remote parables (2 Sam. xii. 5-7, xiv. 4, 14); wherein he mistrusted not himself to be concerned. Wherein this rule is too short, add a third:

3. Do nothing on which you cannot pray for a blessing. Where prayer doth not lead, repentance must follow; and it is a desperate adventure to sin upon hopes of repentance. Every action, and cessation, too, of a Christian that is good and not to be refused, "is sanctified by the word and prayer." (1 Tim. iv. 4, 5.) It becomes not a Christian to do anything so trivial (Eph. v. 1-4), that he cannot pray over it; and if he would but bestow a serious ejaculatory prayer upon every occurrent action, he would find that such a prayer would cut off all things sinful, demur all things doubtful, and encourage all things lawful. Therefore, do nothing but what you can preface with prayer. But these rules are all defective; I will therefore close with an example that is infinitely above defects:

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4. Think, and speak, and do what you are persuaded Christ himself would do in your case, were he upon the earth.-The Heathen-they proposed unto themselves the best examples they had, and therefore let us follow the best of ours. (Mic. iv. 5.) There are many rare examples in Scripture (Heb. xiii. 7): but we may say of them, as it is said of most of David's worthies, whose highest commendation was with this diminution: "They attained not unto the first three." (2 Sam. xxiii. 19, 23.) I propose, therefore, neither great nor small, but the King of saints." (Rev. xv. 3.) It becomes a Christian rather to be an example, than to follow one. (1 Pet. ii. 12, 15; 1 Thess. i. 7.) But by imitating of Christ, you will come as near as it is possible "to the first three;" for your fellowship shall be "with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ" (1 John i. 3), "through the Spirit of holiness," who alone can teach you what it is to abide in Christ (1 John ii. 27), who was, and is, and ever will be, our absolute copy. (Heb. xiii. 8.) O Christians! how did Christ pray, and redeem time for prayer? (Mark i. 35, vi. 46; Luke vi. 12; John xi. 42.) How did Christ preach out of whose mouth proceeded no other but gracious words (Luke iv. 22), that his enemies could not but admire him? (John vii. 46.) At what rate did Christ value the world, who did and taught to renounce it? (Mark x. 21-27.) What time did Christ spend in impertinent discourse, who made! "their hearts burn within them" whom he occasionally fell in company with? (Luke xxiv. 17-32.) How did Christ go up and down doing good to man (Acts x. 38), and always those things that were pleasing to God? (John viii. 29.)

Beloved, I commend to you these four memorials, to be as so many scarlet threads (Josh. ii. 18, 21)-upon every finger of the right hand, one; that you may never put forth your hand to action but these memorials may be in your eye: 1. Mind duty, (Acts ix. 6.) 2. What is another's duty in your case, is yours. (Rom. ii. 21.) 3. What you cannot say, "The blessing of the Lord be upon it!" do not meddle with it. (Ps. cxxix. 8.) But, above all, 4. As soon forget your Christian name (the name of a Christian) as forget to eye Christ (Ps. cxxiii. 2); and, whatever entertainment you meet with from the profane world (John xv. 18, &c.), remember your Exemplar, and "follow his steps, who did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth who, when he was reviled, reviled not again; when he suffered, he threatened not; but committed himself to Him that judgeth righteously." (1 Pet. ii. 21–23.)—Annesley.

NEUFCHATEL AND FAREL.

THE town of Neufchatel is admirably situated, partly on a declivity, partly on the plain between the base of the hill and the lake; but it is for the most part poorly built, and presents little to interest. The lake also, I confess, disappointed me. It is doubtless a fine sheet of water, and its banks are not destitute of beauty; but after our Scottish lakes I thought it rather tame and unpicturesque. The most interesting spot to me in the town was the old castle, gloomy and black as it is, with the church adjoining. Both are memorable edifices in connection with the history of the Reformation. In the former reigned at that time the gay and haughty Joanne de Longueville, by whose sanction and authority the most vigorous attempts were made to beat back the tide which, under guidance of the energetic Farel, was fast rising and advancing to sweep away the power of Popery in this canton; and in the latter were held those memorable conferences, and were delivered those fervid harangues, which ended in the entire

subversion of the Papal influence in Neufchatel. What a pair to meet on that narrow terrace in fierce conflict-the representative of the high-born and haughty heiress of the princely house of Chalons, and the poor, homeless, uncourtly, fiery preacher, who had penetrated her domain! Ha! how it would have startled that proud lady amid her seignorial dignities and feudal majesty, with her princely revenues, her hosts of armed retainers, and her crowds of abject vassals-not daring to keep or to change their faith, save at her august bidding-had some one, gifted to glance into futurity, whispered in her ear that not only should she be utterly worsted in that impending conflict, but that it would be to it she should owe her place in history-nay, that it should be from her relations with that obscure adventurer, that the proud race of the De Longuevilles should be chiefly indebted for being remembered in after ages by any of the human species, besides compilers of peerages and members of heralds' colleges!

On the terrace before the church Farel lies buried; but his grave is not now to be distinguished. It matters not; enough for that o'er-worked and o'erwearied body, that here it found rest; and as for the fervid spirit which animated it, its record and reward are on high.

Who that is interested in the memory of Farel, can visit Neufchatel without hastening to the little village of Serriere? This memorable spot, where the Reformer landed, and where he was permitted first to lift up his voice in proclamation of the Gospel on this side the lake, is about a mile distant from Neufchatel, a little to the left of the Geneva road. It is altogether a remarkable place. A stream issuing suddenly from an opening in the mountain, rushes through a brief course of not more than half a mile down a narrow glen, over which the road 'passes by a bridge. The sides of the glen are studded with mills, the wheels of which are turned by the stream, which thus renders itself for its length, perhaps the most diligent and useful little stream in the world. At the bottom of the glen where it opens upon the lake, clusters the village of Serriere with its ancient church. On a stone near this church, Farel stood when he preached his first sermon in the canton of Neufchatel-a stone of compromise on the part of the perplexed Emer Beynon, vicar of the parish, who not hostile to Farel, would fain have him preach, but fearful, for Emer Beynon dared not open for him the doors of the church. It is a plain rough stone, in no wise noticeable save for this, that during the space of one hour or so it was the throne of a king of men, where he uttered those words which laid the foundation of that spiritual empire which God had given him to establish. It is worthy of remark, also, that from this little hamlet issued the first Protestant edition of the French Scriptures-that curious, coarse paper little folio of 1535, which all Bibliomaniacs are crazy to possess, but which very few have so much as seen. It is gratifying to know that in this church, and to the people of this interesting village, the doctrines which Farel proclaimed are still faithfully taught.-Alexander's "Switzerland and the Swiss Churches."

BEREAVED MOTHER! YOUR child is in heaven, far from the temptations jand allurements of this vain world. She has but gone to her happy home before you; a part of yourself is transplanted there, another cord has been severed that bound you to earth, and now draws you to your Redeemer. Soon you will meet her, and join your

loved one in those angelic strains that now absorb her affections. Then why should you weep? why should you sigh for her return to you? you surely cannot be so selfish, so cruel as to call her back t earth, if you could-to leave the presence of her de deemer, to lay aside the harp that has just vibrate.... to her touch in notes of joyous praise, or to check that song of glory and of triumph which she has just warbled, or to leave heaven with all its brightness and come back to mingle in all the sorrow and anguish of this dark world? Oh, no; methinks I see her angel form hovering around you now, and hear her say, "Dearest mother, do not weep for me, dry your tears, and let not another pang pierce your bosom, for I am happy now. I used to be happy in the presence of my Saviour. God is here, Jesus is here, all the saints are here, your little girl is here-and you will be here too. I cannot leave these blessed abodes, but I will wait at the heavenly gates to meet you, when Jesus calls you. Oh, then, how happy shall we be, in that one joyous meeting, when we shall part no more, and when, 'God shall wipe away all tears from your eyes for ever. And you, my dear grand-parents, de not morn the loss of your idolized one. A little while, and you will share my joys. As fast as time can move, you are hastening home. The sorrows of earth will very soon be over, and the gates will then open to receive you; and we shall, in one united family, range the streets of the New Jerusalem, and praise the Lamb for ever."

PROVIDENCE IN A SHOWER.

A MERCHANT was one day returning from market. He was on horseback, and behind his saddle was a valise filled with money. The rain fell with violence, and the old man was wet to the skin. At this time he was quite vexed, and murmured because God had given him such bad weather for his journey.

He soon reached the border of a thick forest. What was his terror on beholding on one side of the road, a robber, who, with levelled gun, was aiming at him and attempting to fire! But the powder being wet with the rain, the gun did not go off, and the merchant giving spurs to his horse, fortunately had time to escape.

As soon as he found himself safe he said, "How wrong was I not to endure the rain patiently, as sent by Providence? If the weather had been dry and fair, I should not probably have been alive at this hour; the rain which caused me to murmur came at a fortunate moment, to save my life and preserve to me my property."

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OUR attention has been called to that part of ou Memoir of Dr. Heugh in which the correspondence which passed, shortly before his death, between him and a brother minister is referred to, and the part taken by the latter severely characterized. Without entering again into the merits of the controversy, we may be allowed to express our regret that the terms employed in the article were so strong, subject. Our usual rule is, studiously to avoid interor rather, perhaps, that we gave any opinion on the fering with denominational or personal controversy, and it might have been better had the case in hand not been an exception.—ED. C. T.

lot-he is ever sensible, are in danger of finding too large a place in his heart, and require to have a constant and careful check kept on their insinuating encroachments.

Those things at which he is here described as "looking" are "the things which are not seen." What are they? They are all the invisible realities of the world to come-all the joys and glories of the heavenly paradise. These are objects of faith, not of sight. In the immediate context, accordingly, the apostle writes in regard to that blessed state to which Christian hope looks forward: “Therefore we are always confident, knowing that, while we are present in the body, we are absent from the Lord; (for we walk by faith, not by sight); we are confident, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord." (Chap. v. 6-8.) And in Heb. xi. 4, he describes "faith" as being "the confidence of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen "-that is, of the realities of that world, of which the existence, the nature, and the happiness, are matters purely of divine discovery, ascertainable only by the testimony of the inspired word. Thus also, in Rom. viii. 24, 25, the apostle writes: "Hope that is seen is not hope; for what a man seeth why doth he yet hope for? But if we hope for that we see not, then do we with patience wait for it." The "things that are not seen," then, are the same with these objects of hope. "It doth not appear what we shall be; but we know that when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is." But why should there not, among "things unseen," be included an unseen God and an unseen Saviour? If among "the things that are seen are to be numbered the objects of our natural affections, is there any valid reason why the objects of our first and highest spiritual affections should not be numbered amongst the others? "God is a spirit." With regard to his very existence, we "walk by faith." "No man hath seen God at any time." And although "the only-begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, hath declared him," it has only been by the manifestation of his character. He has given us no vision of his spiritual essence. He still continues to "dwell in the light which no eye can approach "-the God "whom no man hath seen, or can see." And of our divine Saviour and Lord what is said?" Whom, having not seen, ye love; in whom though ye see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory." 1 Pet. i. 8. Why, then, should they not be

reckoned among the " things unseen," to which believers "look?" We should not so reckon them, indeed, merely on account of the fact of their being unseen. That would be no sufficient reason, unless they were objects of interest to them, and springs to them of present and anticipated happiness. But they are both; objects of interest, and springs of happiness, the best and the greatest of all. Of all, indeed, they may be regarded as the sum. What would heaven be without God?

"Heaven were a waste deserted place,
If God should disappear;

And should He hide his glorious face,
Thick darkness would be there."

While

And what would it be without Christ? "the glory of God lightens it, the Lamb is the light thereof." To be with Christ, and to be like Christ, "seeing him as he is," enjoying the fulness of his grace, and, through him, the fulness of the love of a covenant God THAT is heaven. "God in Christ" is the portion of our inheritance and cup; and it is in heaven that this portion is to be fully possessed and enjoyed. 2. Our next inquiry is, What is the exercise what the state of mind and heart-expressed by the words, "we look?"

Looking is more than seeing. You may see an object-not, indeed, without having the eyes directed towards it, but without looking at it. You may see a thing by chance; you cannot look at it by chance. You may give an object a passing glance; but your looking at it implies that your eye has been arrested by the sight, and is steadily, as an act of will, fixed upon it. You may have your eyes directed towards an object, and may appear to others to be looking at it-looking at it even with fixedness of gaze; and on the retina of the eye the object may be actually painted; while the mind is all the while unconscious of the vision, its thoughts being absorbed in something entirely different, so that there is no image of it there; it is not the object of conscious mental perception; it has made no impression; it has excited no interest. The eye may be filled, but the mind is vacant.

Again: the "looking" in this passage, it will at once be manifest, is not at all looking with the bodily eye; for it is looking at things "not seen." It is a mental exercise. It is the mind -the mind's eye-that looks. The "looking" expresses the predominant and habitual best of the mind and heart. This bent-this propension-this strong leaning and inclinationis not to things seen, but to things unseen. Now, let it be observed, this is not to be understood