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executioner; pined away amid grief and horror; and died soon after returning to his own house from Padua -a melancholy monument of the effects of unstedfastness in the faith, and the fatal results of that fear of man which bringeth a snare.

It is not our province to pronounce any opinion on the state of Spira beyond the grave-his destinies are with the Lord, and we neither speculate nor dogmatize. Let us, however, just indicate the lessons to which his mournful history points us :

See the effects of apostasy in the chafing misery of Spira's soul.

See the power of God's law, when the Gospel is turned from or misunderstood.

See what mankind would, sooner or later, have been, had there been no Days-man, no Mediator be tween God and man.

See the tremendous power of a roused conscience, when only irritated by a sense of wrath, not cleansed by the blood of sprinkling.

See the peril of the almost Christian-the man who is a follower of Christ only with the understanding, not with a renewed heart.

sin.

See an appalling instance of the effects of wilful

See the need of grace to sustain at all times, but specially when persecution arises because of the truth.

See the danger of philosophizing, as Spira vainly did, in the school of Christ-the origin, Calvin supposed, of his wretched fall.

See the worthlessness of human means to relieve the conscience without the blessing of the Holy Spirit. See the fearful consequences of abandoning the truth to embrace Popery. Spira has been called a Popish martyr. His apostasy led to Vergerio's con

version.

We conclude in the words of Calvin, regarding this apostate's case. May the Lord Jesus confirm our hearts in the full and sincere belief of his own Gospel, and keep our tongues in the uniform confession of him, that as we now join in one song with angels, we may at length enjoy, together with them, the blessed delights of the heavenly kingdom!" Such a prayer is not unneeded in a day when apostasy to Rome is rife. Again we say, "Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall."

THE PARADOX.

THE DELAYING MOTHER.

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A KIND mother may sometimes have just occasion for deep regret at delays which most intimately concern the welfare of her children in this world and in the world to come.

A child was observed to be very languid and feverish. The parents agreed that he ought to have a dose of medicine; but the child was averse to take it; a neighbour called in, and the mother was diverted at the moment that she ought to have given it him. She consoled herself with thinking that she would give it him the first thing in the morning, and that would make very little difference. It was given to him, but it did no good; another morning came, and the child was much worse. Then it was agreed to send for the doctor, and the servant was told to go directly, as the doctor was in the habit of leaving home at ten o'clock, and not returning for several hours. She received the order; but, thinking that a few minutes could not make much difference, she delayed till the time was past: it was only a few minutes: but the doctor was as remarkable for punctuality as the family to which he was summoned was for procrastination; he had left home, and was gone several miles to visit his patients. Some hours elapsed before his return; he then hastened to the bed-side of the sick child, but his efforts were too late: a fatal disease had laid hold on the frame, which, in all probability, might have been checked by timely application.

Calling at the house of one of his friends, the minister found them in the deepest distress, having suddenly lost their only child. He attempted to console the distracted parents; but the mother replied, "Ah, sir, these consolations might assuage my grief for the loss of my child, but they cannot blunt the stings of my conscience, which are as daggers in my heart. It was but last week I was thinking, My child is now twelve years of age; his mind is rapidly expanding; I know he thinks and feels beyond the measure of his years, and a foolish backwardness has hitherto kept me from entering so closely into conversation with him as to discover the real state of his mind, and to make a vigorous effort to lead his heart to God.' I then resolved to seize the first opportunity to discharge a duty so weighty on the conscience of a Christian parent; but day after day my foolish, deceitful heart said, 'I will do

steer!

How perplexed is the path he must tread!
The hope of his happiness rises from fear,
And his life he receives from the DEAD.

His fairest pretensions must wholly be waived,
And his best resolutions be crossed;
Nor can he expect to be perfectly saved
Till he finds himself utterly lost.

When all this-is done, and his conscience secured
Of the total remission of sins;

When his pardon is signed, and his peace is procured,
From that moment the conflict begins.

ill, I had resolved to talk to him that evening; and when he at first complained of his head, I was halfpleased with the thought that this might incline him to listen more seriously to what I should say. But oh, sir, his pain and fever increased so rapidly that I was obliged to put him immediately to bed; and, as he seemed inclined to doze, I was glad to leave him to rest. From that time he was never sufficiently sensible for conversation; and now he is gone into eternity, and has left me distracted with anxiety concerning the salvation of his precious soul! Dilatory wretch! had it not been for my own sin I migit now have been consoling myself with the satisfactory

conviction of having discharged the duty of a Christian parent, and enjoying the delightful assurance of meeting my child before the throne of God and the Lamb. Oh, the cursed sin of procrastination! Oh, the ruinous delusion that lurks in the word to

morrow!"

THE DELAYING SABBATH SCHOOL

TEACHER.

ONE Sabbath evening, on looking over the roll of my class, I found that, among others, the name of Ann had to be marked as among

the absentees. I took a note of it on my visiting list, intending to call during the week according to custom; but afterwards, as the girl's house was a very little out of my way, and not being in a visiting mood, I thought there could be no great harm in delaying a week; besides, it occurred to me that good reasons could frequently be given for non-attendance, and it was likely she would be there on the succeeding Sabbath, as she was so regular in her attendance. With these, and like excuses, I lulled my Sabbath teacher's conscience asleep.

The Sabbath returned again, and being prepared for its evening duties, I found myself once more in the school with my children around me; and though feeling a little, a cery little, uneasiness on seing that Ann still absent, it soon wore off, and was forgotten in the excitement of teaching.

was

The lessons were concluded, and we were just about to engage in praise before dismission, when a neighbouring teacher stepped across the floor to me, and said very seriously

"Have you a girl in your class of the name

"She is dead!" "Dead?"

"Yes; she died four days ago. She was buried yesterday. Her brother is in my class, and brought word last Sabbath that she was ill and wished to see you, but I forgot to tell." "Oh! if you had only told me I wish you had told me."

"I am very, very sorry I did not."

'My heart sank within me-I could not speak. Dead!-gone from this world for ever; gone from any power or means I could use. Is she saved or lost a sinner in hell or a saint in glory? Dead! and I not at her death-bed. Have I done my duty to her? have I done all I could? Alas! alas! my conscience, now fully aroused, told me I had not. There was no want of time on my part-it was inclination. I felt I ought to have called at once, and then some opportunity would have been afforded me of smoothing the pillow, and speaking peace

and comfort to my dying scholar. But now it was too late! The thought was bitter anguish. I knew my duty, but I did it not.

I could not call on the mourning parents that evening, but next day took the first opportunity of doing so. I knocked gently at the door -it was opened, and I went in, but found only the mother and two or three of the younger children present. For a few minutes nothing was said. At last I spoke.

"So Ann has gone to her rest.” "Yes, sir; she is gone."

"How did she die?"

"We don't know, sir; we hope she is in heaven."

"Had she much pain?"

"Vera little; she just sleepit awa." "Was she happy in her mind?”

"We hope sae. She could speak but little, and was vera dull o' hearing for three days before her death, and when we had anything to say, we had to cry vera loud, and could hardly make her understand."

"I am very sorry I was not here to see her." "Ay, we thought you might have come,” said the mother reproachfully;-" we sent you word, but you didna come. Puir thing! Annie was fond o' the Sabbath class, and would not stay away, wet or dry"-and she burst into tears.

I explained as well as I could why I had not come when sent for, but could not excuse myself. Time-means-opportunity-I had neglected

them all.

After some further conversation on the state of mind, and death, of my scholar, and after trying to turn the mind of the mother to the rich consolations of the Gospel, I ended my sad visit.

And now, why do I write this? It is to urge on my fellow-teachers earnestly, most earnestly, to call on absentees the very first spare time they have-if possible, the next day—and never to let light excuses induce them to defer doing! so. It is well to visit all scholars, but the absentees to hold the first place. Visiting is a check to the wandering and careless; and where illness is the cause of absence, the sick or death bed affords opportunities of pressing home the truths of the everlasting Gospel that are not lightly to be neglected; and by proper and prompt visiting of these absentees, not only will the attendance of a class be better kept up, but Sabbath teachers would never have in this respect cause to lament, as I do, a neglected opportunity. - Scottish Sabbath School Teachers' Magazine.

A PASTOR'S TROUBLES.

1. Ir troubles him, that his own emotions are not more deep and fervent in view of the glorious doctrines of the Scriptures. Those doctrines do sometimes rise up before him, as the result of great pantings after God, in inexpressible sublimity and glory. The veil seems a little removed, so that radi

ance enough gleams forth to show that eye hath not seen as yet, nor ear heard, the immensity of the good involved in the great facts of redeeming love. But these are only flashes of the heavenly light, and he has to reproach himself with the reflection that, were his soul in the moral state it might be, and ought to be, these transient gleams might be the steady brightness of an unclouded sun.

2. It troubles him that, while there lies before him a sermon he has just completed, he is conscious that the truth it contains has not gone further into the depths of his soul, and that it has not been a greater spiritual advantage to himself, that he has prepared another repast for his people.

3. It troubles him when the Sabbath services are over, that, interested though he may have been, he has not done full honour to the glorious truths he has delivered by the deep responses of his own soul to their amazing value.

4. It troubles him that, while he looks around upon the people of his charge, he beholds so many unmoved by his ministrations, and cannot but reason that, had his ministerial course been one of more glowing love, and stronger faith, and more ardent zeal, these aliens might have been living stones in the spiritual temple

of God.

5. It troubles him to ponder the deficiencies of his own piety, while he reffects, that had his own personal example been one of higher conformity to the spotless character of his Lord, the disciples about him I would have felt the glowing radiance of it, and the moral verdure of their hearts would have burst forth in vastly greater luxuriance and beauty.

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sparrow passed me, bearing food to its little progeny; and the chirp of the merry grasshopper mingled with the hum of hundreds of flitting insects.

But for this peace-breathing scene I had no greeting. The wild storm, thunder, and rain, and darkness, had seemed far more welcome; and, yielding utterly to my grief, I threw myself upon the sod. I took no heed of time, but many minutes must have passed, when a child approached me. She looked on me tenderly for an instant, and then said earnestly, looking upward, "There are no graves there!"

There was something almost seraphic in the countenance of the child, a power not of earth in her quick and undoubting faith. My eye sought the blue depths toward which she pointed; my heart bounded toward the Infinite. All the representations of the Gospel, adapted as they are to sooothe and cheer, came to me so vivid, so truthful, so full of meaning, that they absorbed my whole soul. The abundant promises seemed to glow with the hues of that heaven from whence they came. I perceived the selfishness of my sorrow, and kneeling, I thanked God that he had transferred my loved one to himself.

Often since then have I looked upon the restingplaces of my kindred-often has there come over me a sense of utter and hopeless desolation-often has an agony like that of death turned to bitterness the continued blessings of my lot; yet, when the first burst of grief has passed, I hear again the soulcheering assurance," There are no graves there!"

Here are a few of the troubles of a faithful pastor. They are not morbid imaginings and groundless fancies. They are serious, stern, sometimes terrible realities. At not long intervals they cover the sky with threatening clouds, and sometimes they gather such gloom over it, that not a solitary star glitters in the darkened firmament! Disciple, these are sorrows of the pastor's heart that do not belong to your history, but they set up many a monument of sadness in his. These sorrows grow out of that sacred profession he has entered for your sake, and the welfare of others. Shall not these few items, a very few among many-shall they not make a promptly answered appeal to your sympathies, and in behalf of your prayers? "Brethren, pray for us."

THERE ARE NO GRAVES THERE!

LATE in the afternoon of a beautiful summer day, I entered a quiet grave-yard, where slept one of my dearest friends. It occupied the brow of a hill, which, with many a knoll and graceful undulation, sloped to the green meadow, watered by a winding stream, now catching at its repeated curves the rays of the setting sun. On the left was a pleasant wood, where the sturdy pine and fruit-bearing beech concealed narrow paths to cool caves and mossy banks. White birches and the tremulous aspen, with the sweet-scented willow, grew upon the right, and, from beyond, rose the curling smoke from the cottage homes. A robin sang its song of love and praise; a

BIBLE.

ALL error dreads the light of the Word, and fears more to be examined by that than a thief does to be tried before a strict judge. Unfold them, or bring them and the Word face to face, and, like Cain, they hang down their head-they are put to shame. This is the only certain ordeal to try suspected opinions at.. If they can walk upon this fiery law unhurt, unreproved, they may safely pass for truths, and none else. Paul tells of some "that will not endure sound doctrine." (2 Tim. iv. 3.) Alas! how should they, when their minds are not sound? It is too searching for them. Gouty feet cannot go but on a soft way, which generally yields to them. Such must have a doctrine that will comply with their humour, which the Word will not, but rather judge them; and this they think. it will do too soon at the great day, therefore, now they shun it, lest it should torment them before their time. Thus, the Quakers have their skulking hole to which they run from the Scripture, at whose bar they know their opinions would be cast, and therefore appeal to another-the light within them, or, in plain English, their natural conscience, a judge which is known too well to be corrupt, and easily bribed to speak what the lusts of men will often have him do. Ah, poor creatures, what a sad change have they made, to leave the Word, that is an inflexible rule of faith, which can no more deceive them than God himself, to trust the guidance of themselves to themselves; a more ignorant, unfaithful guide, the devil "He that is his could not have chosen for them. own teacher," saith Bernard, is sure to have a fool The way of a fool is right in his own eyes, but he for his master." God himself, by Solomon, saith, that hearkeneth unto counsel is wise" (Prov. xii. 15); but he most wise, that makes the Word of God the

man of his counsel. The Papist hath this thicket and wood at his back also-antiquity and traditions, to which he flies before the face of the Scripture for sanctuary, as Adam did to a bush when God came to him; as if any antiquity were so authentic as God's own oracles, and any traditions of men to be laid in the balance with the Scripture. To name no more, the Socinian folds himself up in his own proud reason, and assumes such state, that the sense of Scripture must be reconciled to his reason, and not his reason bent to the Scripture; he must have a religion and Scripture that fit the model which his own reason draws, or he will have neither: the root of many prodigious errors and heretics, like those of whom Tertullian speaks, who went to the philosopher's forge to shape a Christianity. What is this, but to carry gold to be weighed in the chandler's scales, and to look for the sun by the light of the

moon?

Object. But we see heretics quote Scripture for their most prodigious errors, and draw this sword for their defence, as well as the orthodox: how then is it such a powerful instrument against error? Ans. What will not men of subtle heads, corrupt hearts, and bold faces, dare to do for carrying on their wicked party, when once they have espoused an error or any sinful way? Korah and his ungodly company dare give out that the Lord is among them, and they have as much to do with the priesthood as Aaron himself, on whom the holy oil was poured. (Numb. xvi. 13.) And Zedekiah, that arch flatterer, fears not to father his lie on the God of truth himself (1 Kings xxii. 11): "He made him horns of iron, and said,,Thus saith the Lord, With these thou shalt push the Syrians until thou hast consumed them;" whereas God never spoke such a word. It is no marvel, then, to see any lay their bastard brats at God's door, and cry they have Scripture on their side. By this impudence they may abuse credulous souls into a belief of what they say, as a cheater may pick the purses of ignorant people, by showing them something like the king's broad seal, which was his own forgery. But sincere souls, that search humbly for truth, and have no other design in their inquiry after it, but that they I may know the will of God, and obey it, they shall find, upon their faithful prayers to God, a light most clear, shining from the Scripture to guide them safe from those pitfalls of fatal errors into which others fall, towards whom the dark side of this cloud stands: "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom; a good understanding have all they that do his commandments." (Ps. cxi. 10.) The fox, when hard I put to it, will fall in subtly with the dogs, and hunt with them as one of their company; but then his strong scent, which he cannot leave behind him, berays him. Thus heretics, to shelter their errors, will crowd them in among Scripture truths, and by their false glosses make them seem to be of their company; but they cannot so perfume their rotten opinions, but their rank scent and savour will be smelt, and discerned by those who have their senses exercised. A heretic can reap no advantage by an appeal to the Scripture. What Christ saith in another case (Matt. xxvi. 52), “All they that take the sword shall perish by the sword," is most true of all heretics; they are confounded and confuted by that very sword of the Word which they lift up to defend themselves.

The true reason why Papists forbid the Scripture to be read is not to keep them from errors and heresies, but to keep them from discovering those which they themselves impose upon them. Such trash as they trade in, would never go off their hand did they not keep their shop thus dark; which made one of their

shavelings so bitterly complain of Luther for spoiling their market, saying, that but for him they might have persuaded the people of Germany to eat hay. Anything indeed will go down a blind man's throat. I do not wonder that their people, thus kept in ignorance, do so readily embrace their fopperies, and believe all their forgeries. The blind man must either sit still or go whither he pleaseth that leads him. We read of a whole army, when once smitten with blindness, carried out of their way by one single man that had his eyes in his head. (2 Kings vi. 19.) But this we may wonder at, that men who know the Scriptures (as many of their leaders do) and acknowledge their divinity, dare be so impudent and auda-|| cious as to intercept this letter sent from the great God to the sons of men, and not suffer them, except a few whom they think fit, to look on it, though it be subscribed and directed by God himself, not to any party or sort of men, but to every man where it comes. (Rom. i. 7; 2 Cor. i. 1.) This is a piece of impudence that cannot be paralleled. Wherefore are laws made, but to be promulgated?-Scripture written, but to be read and known of all men? I am sure the apostle, by the same authority with which he wrote his epistle, commands it to be read in the church. (Col. iv. 16.) And did the ministers of those churches pocket them up, and conceal them from the people's notice, lest they should, by perverting them, | be made heretics? It is too true, some wrest the Scriptures to their own destruction: and so do some, for want of care in eating, choke themselves with their bread; must all therefore starve for fear of being choked? Some hurt themselves and friends with their weapons; must therefore the whole army be disarmed, and only a few chief officers be allowed to wear a sword by their sides? Truly, if this be argument enough to seal up the Bible from being read, we must not only deny it to the meaner and more unlearned sort, but also to the great rabbies and doctors; for the grossest heresies have bred in the finest wits. Prodigious errors have been as much beholden to the sophistry of Arius as to the ignorance of Etius. So that the upshot of all will be this-the unlearned must not read the Scriptures, because they may pervert them through ignorance; nor the learned, because they may wrest them by their subtlety. Thus we see, when proud men will be wiser than God, their foolish minds darken, till they lose the reason and understanding of men.

The world, by this time, knows where the insufficiency of the Scriptures lies. Sufficient they are for God's ends, but not for the pope's. They are able to furnish every true Christian with wisdom enough how he should save his soul; but the pope finds himself grieved, that they are not so useful to help him to keep a triple crown on his head, and do not furnish him with grounds from which he may defend the lordly power and godlike infallibility which he claims, with other doctrines held forth by him; and this is the only defect he can charge the Scriptures with; to supply which the rabble rout of traditions is brought into the Church; all taught to speak the pope's sense before they see the light: and that reputation may be gained to these unknown witnesses, this way their fine wits, with the devil's help (who owes the Scripture an old spite, ever since the first promise rescued Adam out of his hand), have taken -that the Scriptures be declared insufficient and uncertain. Just as Andronicus served the Emperor Alexius, who gave out that he was weak and insufficient to govern alone, and so first got a joint power with him, and at last an absolute power over him to dethrone him; and whether their traditions have dealt better by the Scriptures, the world may judge. -Gurnall.

PROFIT BY KEEPING THE SABBATH.

SABBATH keeping benefits both the body and mind, and thus must also tend to increase the worldly estate; for who does not know that a sound mind in a sound body is all-important to the success of his business? For what say facts here? They say that those who work six days in a week will do more work, and do it in a better manner, than those who labour seven. Cases in proof of this to almost any extent might be mentioned, if space were allowed; two or three must suffice. At the late Sabbath convention in Baltimore, which was attended by one thousand seven hundred delegates from all parts of the United States, a great drover from Ohio stated that he had made more money by resting on the Sabbath with his droves than he would if he had kept on seven days; his cattle and sheep always brought him a better price than others which were constantly kept travelling. In one case, where his neighbours could not find a market in consequence of the cattle having been overdriven, he cleared five hundred dollars, and this he attributed to resting on the Lord's-day. A salt-boiler tried the experiment of resting on the Sabbath, which it was thought that business would not admit of; but he found at the end of the season that he had made more salt than any of his neighbours, with the same dimension of kettles, whilst his whole expense for breakage and repairs was only six cents. Some years ago, in this county, after a long wet spell in harvest came a clear Sabbath, when many farmers hurried in their grain, which from being housed before it was fully dry, was greatly damaged; whilst others, who feared God and kept his commandment, were enabled to gather in theirs in good condition. No doubt money is sometimes made for a time by Sabbath labour, as in the case of those who, in violation of the laws both of God and man, sell liquor on that day, and find perhaps more customers than on any other day; but the sad history of such men and their families too often shows that they only "earn wages to put it in a bag with holes," and that the curse of God is upon their ill-gotten wealth. A friend in an adjoining county, once remarked that he had for a long time made careful observations on this subject, and he had never known any permanent advantages to arise from projects planned or carried out on this day, but often serious losses to have followed them.

"I SAW an exhibition at Rome," says the Rev. M. H. Seymour, "which affected me more than any other. It is one of the clearest examples of pure and simple idolatry that the mind can conceive. It is called the Adoration of the Cross,' and takes place upon Good-Friday. I went that day to the Sistine Chapel, or chapel royal of the Vatican. The pope was seated

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upon his throne; the church was deprived of all its ornaments; the altar of all its decorations; the candles usually lighted there were all extinguished; the carthe archbishops, bishops, and priests appeared in dinals all appeared in their mourning robes; and all mourning. Having taken my place, I observed that everything wore the complexion of what they desired to represent, namely, the mourning of the whole Church upon the death of Jesus Christ. All preforward. He held in his hand a cross. The cross was liminaries being arranged, a priest at the altar stood wrapped up in a black veil, so that you could not see it, except through the veil. He then carefully uncovered one arm of the cross, and when he had done so, he cried out, 'Behold the wood of the cross,' and immediately the choir and the whole congregation responded, Come, let us adore it.' He then proceeded to uncover the other arm, and cried out as before, 'Behold the wood of the cross; again the choir and the whole congregation responded, Come, let us adore it. He then removed the whole of the covering, so that the whole of the cross was visible; and a third time he cried out, 'Behold the wood of the cross;" and the choir and congregation answered a third time, the marble steps of the altar, and proceeded to the 'Come, let us adore it.' The priest then descended middle of the chapel, where there was placed a cushion on the marble floor, and on it the priest very reverently placed the cross. Then commenced a the cardinals approached the pope. They raised him scene which baffles all description. Three or four of from his throne; they took the mitre from his head; they took the spangled shoes from off his feet; they took the embroidered gloves from his hands; they took the priviale from off his shoulders; and thus one by one they stripped the aged man of all his robes, till he stood in a loose dress, and appeared to me like an old woman in a flannel dressing-gown! Such is the fact. This aged man was stripped of all his robes; and it seemed a strange sight to see this man, professing himself to be the vicar of Christ, and the representative of God upon earth-the man who, as pope, had shaken kingdoms to their centres and rocked thrones to their ruin-the man before whom homage the man who is supposed to hold in his hand cardinals, archbishops, and bishops, were bowing in the keys of heaven and of hell-the man who claims the power to absolve his fellow-man from his sins: it was a strange sight to see that man brought down from his throne, stripped of all his splendid robes, and standing before the world divested of every trace cardinals made him descend the steps of his throne, or emblem of his lofty pretensions. In this state the and bare-headed and bare-footed they brought him from his throne along where the cardinals stood, till he fronted the altar, from the farthest end of the chapel, and then he knelt upon the marble floor, and then again they made him kneel, and a second time adored the cross. He rose and took three steps, and

adore the cross. He then rose, and they led him three steps again; and again, the third time, they made him kneel, and he adored the cross, kissed it, and placed a large purse of money beside it as his offering to the cross. He then rose and retired. And then all the cardinals did the same, taking off their shoes, and bare-headed and bare-footed knelt and prostrated themselves and adored the cross. I confess to you, sir, that when I looked at that scene, I was more affected by it than I am able to express; I never expected to see that old man, for he is past eighty years of age-that old man with one foot in the grave, representing, as they would have us believe, the great Head of the Church and Bishop of our souls, claiming to possess the power to forgive or to retain our sins; claiming authority to 'set up, to pull