as I wished; for last night, father, who had been all the week saying he should take me to Swith him and mother, on Sunday, which I could not have dared to refuse complying with, came home very cross, saying they should go to M- instead, and that they couldn't take me there. I don't know the reason, and was afraid to ask; but oh, Sarah, it did seem as if God himself were taking all hindrances away, and would have me go again to his house, to hear that precious gospel, which makes dear Mrs. Watson so good and so happy; and which, she says, and Mr. Herbert says, is as much for me as anyone. Well, I was ready in good time; when, just as I was going to set off, Mrs. Wright, next door, saw me in the garden, and spoke to me. 'Martha,' she said, 'I hope you are going to church today, as I see you have done the last Sunday or two; you'd better come along with me; when a girl of your sort takes to going to church, as I am glad to see you do, it's as well she should walk there with steady, respectable people.' 'If I were going to church, I could go with Mrs. Watson,' I said, feeling very angry at her remarks. 'Oh yes! and go past Meadow End, on the way to her house, and get gossiping with the loose, idle characters about there! and either get persuaded to stay away, or else go in late, with some idler, and sit in the gallery, laughing. I was afraid your church-going was for no better purpose; indeed, with such a flaunting bonnet on your head, what can you go for but just to get looked at.' 'I'm not going to church at all,' I said, in a passion; 'I'm going to Mwith father and mother; and I shall wear what bonnets I choose, and speak to whom I please; and had better mind your own business, and mend some of your own faults, before you concern yourself about mine. I can't see the use of going to church in the morning, and coming home and leading your poor husband such a life in the afternoon, that he's driven to the public house to get any peace or comfort.' I then ran into the house, slamming the door after me; and feeling too proud and too passionate to let her think I was going to church for her persuading me. I felt as if she had hardened my heart; and said to myself, that if I were doing wrong, it was her fault, not mine. My father and mother started soon after this reminded me of the lie I had told about going with them, when I knew they would not take me; the thought, however, did not soften me, and I sat, sullenly, doing nothing, till one o'clock. I saw the people coming home, Mrs. Wright among them; and, as she went into her house, I heard her say, so loudly that I think she meant me to hear, She ought to have heard that sermon about hardening the heart; it was all about such ways as

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hers.' This made me feel still more angry, and I have been so unhappy all day since; I dared not read my Bible, and I dared not go to church this evening-and this, too, after I had hoped to be quite a different creature, to turn over a new leaf, and to be religious and happy! But it's of no use: such as I am, and have been, had better give up these notions, and get what pleasure they can; I can't be good. To tell a lie, and spend such a Sunday, and get in such a passion, instead of going to church, when I had made such resolutions, and meant to be so religious ! What shall I do? And yet I can't bear to think of always being as bad as I am now! Oh, what can I do?"

Poor Sarah was herself very ignorant of the best things, or she might have known better how to answer, than only to advise Martha not to be discouraged, to be sure to go to church next Sunday, to make stronger resolutions, and to keep out of Mrs. Wright's way, to whose uncharitable speeches she felt inclined to lay half the blame.

Just then, a merry little voice shouted out, "Why, there's Aunt Sarah!" and in a minute, a little chubby, curly headed boy was in her lap, while a girl, a little older, was climbing up behind her chair, to take possession of her neck and face.

Sarah was delighted to see them, and was much amused with their innocent prattle. "Shall I tell you where I've been to-day, aunty?" said little Harry; "I'm getting quite a man, and I've been to the Sunday school." "And what did you learn there? I dare say you can't tell me a word." "Oh yes, I can; first, we learnt the text of the morning sermon: it was, 'To-day, if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts; and when we could say it quite perfectly, Mr. Herbert came, and talked to us about the sermon, and made us understand it." "Shall I tell you what it means? You and I, and people and children, are Christ's sheep and lambs; and He speaks to us, and we are to listen to his voice, and not harden our hearts." Yes," said little Lizzie, and he told us some of the words Jesus speaks to his sheep; and I remember best those words, 'Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out;' because, Mr. H. said, no one was too bad or too wicked to come; and none, however sinful they were, would be turned back, but let into his safe and happy fold; and I was just then thinking that I was not good enough to be one of Christ's lambs. And, besides that, I've often meant to be so good, and have turned out so naughty, and felt I never could be good, like Mary Wilson and Sarah James; so I was very glad to hear that not only the little child who finds it hard to be good, but even the holy apostle, St. Paul, who wrote so much of the Bible, and did

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so much good, was not able to do anything of himself;' and shall I tell you the texts our class had to learn about all this? Look, here's my ticket, for saying them perfectly." "Yes, dear, do;" said Martha, who had been listening with increasing interest; and Lizzie repeated, in the measured, half singing way in which she had said them in the class, "Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out." "Not that we are sufficient of ourselves to think anything as of ourselves; but our sufficiency is of God." O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?" "I can do all things through Christ, which strengtheneth me. My strength is made perfect in weakness.” My grace is sufficient for thee."

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Sarah and the children soon after bid Martha good bye; but "the word" spoken in due season, though out of the mouth, of babes, did not return void to Him who gave it. Martha thought of the words she had heard; and the hope that she too, wretched sinner as she felt herself to be, might, through grace, be enabled to fight the good fight and obtain the victory, revived in her heart; as, confessing and lamenting her sins, she ventured, before retiring to sleep, to seek the pardon and acceptance so freely offered to all.

These are a few, and but a very few, of the various ways in which that message from God had been received. As of old, some believed the word spoken, and some believed it not. The sower went forth to sow; and as he sowed, some fell by the way side; some on stony ground; some among thorns; some on good ground, to spring up and bring forth fruit, some thirty, some sixty, and some an hundred fold. Let the reader of this short tract, before he closes it, spend a few moments in considering the manner in which he is accustomed to listen to the preaching of the gospel. Has the word preached hitherto failed to profit him, not being mixed with faith? and if so, may not this lamentable deficiency be assignable to one of the following causes?

First. It has, perhaps, been forgotten that the gospel is of individual application. It is a snare of Satan to draw our thoughts from the contemplation of our own hearts and deeds, and to cause all appeals to the conscience to fall powerless, by fixing our attention on the failings of our neighbours. When Christ was asked, "What shall this man do?" his answer was, "What is that to thee? follow thou me." When he was questioned, "Lord, are there few that be saved?" he answered, "Strive to enter in at the strait gate!"

Or, Secondly. Perhaps the preaching of the word has been regarded less as a message from God than as the performance

of a man. We have lost sight of the fact, that preaching is God's ordinance, the minister his ambassador. The inestimable treasure has been overlooked, in our admiration or depreciation of the earthen vessel in which it has been deposited. We have approved or criticised the sermon, praised or blamed the preacher, and forgotten the gospel.

Or, Thirdly. We have rested in "hearing" the gospel; and, satisfied that a duty has been gone through, have failed to desire and pray, that we may be "doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving our own souls."

But has the reader, on the contrary, reason to believe that, by God's grace, he is among the happy number of those who, in an honest and good heart, having heard the word, keep it ; and, receiving it with pure affection, bring forth the fruits of the Spirit? Then although, in reply to the apostolical admonition, "Brethren, pray for us," he will be ready to exclaim, with the prophet of old, "God forbid that I should sin against the Lord, in ceasing to pray for you;" he will, nevertheless, be willing to suffer the word of exhortation, "to abound more and more in prayer" for the pastors of Christ's flock, that his word, spoken by them, may have such success, that it may never be spoken in vain; "and that, both by their preaching and living, they may set it forth, and show it accordingly."

J. F. SHAW, BOOKSELLER, SOUTHAMPTON ROW, AND
PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON; AND

W. INNES, BOOKSELLER, SOUTH HANOVER STREET, EDINBURGH.

London: J. & W. RIDER, Printers, 14, Bartholomew Close.

THE MIDNIGHT VISITORS.

SOME time ago, an occurrence took place during a visit to the town of C, in the neighbouring kingdom, which most vividly recalled to my mind the midnight scene, so graphically narrated in the Acts of the Apostles, where an awakened jailor vehemently demanded of his prisoners, "What must I do to be saved?" The cases were, indeed, in some respects, widely different; nevertheless, the extraordinary moral revolution produced in both, was manifestly effected by the same invisible but all-powerful agent.

For the purpose of arresting the attention of the careless in that town to their eternal interests, and of pointing earnest inquirers after true peace to its only source, through the atonement and mediation of the Son of God,-a series of consecutive services were arranged, where the gospel in its simplicity was prayerfully urged on the hearers night after night. These were eminently blessed, both in regard to the increasingly large numbers who flocked to hear the truth, and the ultimate happy results.

On Saturday evening,—at the close of the first week,- -we had retired from the house of prayer at an advanced hour, requiring the rest of our peaceful home, and were conversing for some considerable time over the rich illustrations we had that week been privileged to witness of God's faithfulness in answering prayer, and of the power of His grace in reaching the hearts of the most obdurate,—when suddenly a loud knocking was heard at the door. The servant soon announced that a man and his wife were in the drawing room, and had requested an interview. The lateness of the hour-it was almost midnight-convinced me that the case was an urgent one. I entered the room; when at once the man rose from his seat, and literally (to use the historic language regarding the jailor