word, without despising his unspeakable gift, and telling him in our hearts, that his word is not to be taken.

I am sorry to speak hard words to you, Andrew; but you know that I have sorrowed with you, and spoken gently to you without any good effect. God's people require to be borne with, and treated tenderly; but there are seasons when they require to be taken by the shoulders and shaken, before they awake from their apathy and sinful repining. Is it not an unreasonable speech for a man at midnight to say, It will never be day? It is as unreasonable for a man in trouble to say, "O Lord, I shall never get free, it will always be thus, and never end."

Let me just put the thoughts of your heart into words, Andrew, and they will be enough to make a Christian man blush. "Almighty God, thou hast made me in thy wisdom, thou hast preserved me in thy goodness from the days of my infancy even until now. Thou hast bestowed upon me innumerable mercies. Thou hast given thine only Son to die for me, thou hast put into my hands the words of eternal life, and promised me the holy influences of thine Holy Spirit. Thou hast been to me a wise Counsellor, a Friend that sticketh closer than a brother, a faithful covenant-keeping God, and yet for all this I cannot trust thee any longer. I doubt thy love, I disbelieve thy word, and I choose the dark gloomy forebodings of my own desponding mind, rather than the bright and glorious influences of thy promises, thy presence, and thy salvation."

Think of this, Andrew, and if you do not return as a chastened child to your heavenly Father, if you do not magnify the Lord, and rejoice heartily in the strength of his salvation, I shall mourn over you as over a backsliding brother, and pray for you as for one who setteth light by his Lord and Master, and undervalues the sacrifice of his "Saviour Jesus Christ.

A Call on a Saturday. Stop! stop! Mrs. Jenkins. If I had not spoken just in time, your bucket of water would have filled my shoes. So, you are cleaning up your house for to-morrow. That's right! I dearly love to see a little preparation for the Lord's day. If many of your neighbours would follow your

example, instead of gossiping away their time at their doors, it would be better for them. How excellent a thing it is to stir about, and to have things in comfortable order against the day of rest, so that when you get up in the morning there is nothing to hinder you from going to the house of God, and making the most of the sabbath-day. I usually take a peep into the houses as I pass by on a Saturday, and always hope and think favourably of every woman whom I see busy with her mop and scrubbing brush. We all need help on our way to heaven, and the merciful provision of a day of rest is as marrow to the bones of many a toilworn and heavy-laden Christian. But mind, Mrs. Jenkins, that to prepare for the sabbath-day, and then to neglect its advantages, would be a great mistake. Therefore make the most of God's gifts. "Serve the Lord with gladness: come before his presence with singing.-Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and bless his name. For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting; and his truth endureth to all generations."

A Call on a Blind Man.

Here you are sitting at your door as usual, Ambrose, enjoying the sunbeams, though you cannot discern them; I am glad to see you look so cheerful. The breeze blows delightfully this morning. A good man_once said that the wind was an emblem of our heavenly Father, for though we cannot see it, yet it always makes us sensible of its presence and its action. God is always making us sensible of his presence by his manifold mercies, and though he has taken away your sight, he has given you his grace.

"Oh that all the blind but knew him

And would be advised by me;

Quickly they would hasten to him,

He would cause their minds to see."

This is a dark world, Ambrose, to all who have not the light of God's countenance, but especially to the blind. However, He who said, "Let there be light," and there was light, can turn the darkness into day, and bid the heart that is bowed down with care, rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory.

you;

One of these days I shall call in and sit a while with for a little cheerful conversation sometimes does us good, and makes our hearts glow again. Let me, in the mean while, leave you a text of Scripture to reflect on, a precious promise to the pilgrims of the cross. "I will bring the blind by a way that they know not; I will lead them in paths that they have not known: I will make darkness light before them, and crooked things straight. These things will I do unto them, and not forsake them."

A Call on a bereaved Parent.

I have just looked in, Mr. Stevens, to say that I feel for you in your trouble, which is great; but He who has in faithfulness afflicted you, will, I doubt not, in mercy bind up the bones that he has broken. It is a hard thing to know how to speak to a bereaved parent; for when the harp is hung on the willows it will murmur, let the wind blow from what quarter it may, and oftentimes the soul refuses to be comforted, even though the consolation comes from Heaven. An overburdened heart sometimes turns away from the Bible itself, and doubts the promises of the Redeemer; but this should not be the case, you know it should not!

Your daughter was no doubt dear to you; but do you not think she was dearer to her Creator and Redeemer? I am told that you take this affliction more to heart, than a servant of God should do; and that you see the bitter cup much plainer than you see the Almighty hand which presents it. Faithful are the wounds of a friend, and still more faithful the wounds of the sinner's Friend, who is touched with the feeling of our infirmities, and whose grace is all-sufficient; therefore have confidence in God,

“Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace;

Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face."

Perhaps you have been unmindful of your blessings, and required this chastisement: your child was a simple-hearted and diligent scholar at the Sunday-school, and you believe that she sought salvation through the Redeemer alone. Here then is mercy mingled with judgment, and cause of

rejoicing amidst your regret. Magnify the Lord, and humbly rejoice in the strength of your salvation!

I have brought you a cordial in the shape of a little tract, "To a Christian Parent, on the death of an Infant," and as it is adapted to your case, and offers sweet consolation, perhaps it may be a means, through the influence of the Holy Spirit, of drawing the poisoned arrow from your heart, and applying there the true balm of Gilead, the faithful promises of God, which are yea and amen in Christ Jesus to all the followers of the Redeemer. Trust in God.

"A bruised reed he will not break,
Afflictions all his children feel;

He wounds them for his mercy's sake,
He wounds to heal."

DO GOOD.-JAMES IV. 17.

WE are told by the apostle Paul, that "God hath concluded all under sin," and the apostle John has declared, that "if we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we say we have not sinned, we make God a liar." The apostle James shows us how this charge of sin may be brought home to every one. He might have said, but he does not, "To him that transgresseth the law of God, to him it is sin;" or, "To him that breaketh the law of the land, to him it is sin." He speaks not even of any sin of positive commission; he points not to any gross neglect of duty. But he says, "To him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin." Who can escape an accusation at once so simple and so searching?

Now there are some persons who utterly disclaim a religious character, though they bear at the same time, and would not choose to give up, the name of a Christian, which means, of course, a follower of Jesus Christ, and a believer in his holy religion. Alas! so it is! they are not religious for we must allow that this fearful inconsistency must and will exist; they are not religious! still we bring the Bible to bear its awful judgment against the very lowest profession they can make, against the very slightest opinions of their light and trifling minds. I say to them most solemnly-You do know what is good. You allow this in

other words. You know right from wrong, and if you will not do that which is right, when you know it to be right, and if you will do that which is wrong, when you know it to be wrong, you are a sinner, a condemned and self-convicted sinner before the high authority of Heaven; for what says the apostle, "To him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin."

There is, indeed, a large class among us, to which these words must be addressed in their uncompromising plainness. This class consists of those, who, on the subject of religion, profess stupidity, and a want of power to understand and comprehend the plainest rules of duty. They are answered with an homely plainness by this honest teacher which they cannot gainsay. I repeat, that there is a class of persons who may be said on the subject of religion to profess stupidity. I do not mean that their profession is exactly in what they say, but in their pretending that they cannot say, that they cannot understand. Preach to them plain truths and plain duties in plain language, read to them the plain threatenings and plain promises of the Holy Bible, question them, talk to them, endeavour to teach them in any way, and you will be met by a dull look and a heavy ear; they will make the old excuse, "I am no great scholar, these matters are above me;" or they will tell you with a sigh, that they wish they had such advantages of education as others whom they could name. But to such persons, I say, What is teaching from the book of God? Is it only to fix so many words on the memory? Words must lead to actions, or they do not perform the proper office of words. What is the use of words on any common subject? A master, a farmer, for instance, tells his shepherd in so many words, to go forth into the open country and seek a sheep which has strayed from the flock, and bring it back to the fold. Now, the servant does not afterwards try to recollect the mere words, and nothing more, but he sets at once about the doing of the thing which he is told to do by his master's words. He does not say to himself, "Here are sounds for my ears," but, "Here is something to be done." He knows well enough what a sheep is, and what a fold is, and knows what he was to do about them, so, unless he is a disobedient servant, he obeys as well as hears; he hears in order to obey. Again, the most ignorant man knows that some