themselves." Prosper Thou the work of our hands upon us" is a reasonable prayer. Without the unnecessary loss of a day through procrastination, that "thief of time and source of loss," Esther went out to seek employment, and was engaged at the rate of a shilling a day for one week. Thankful for this, small as it was, she returned to her house, the scene of much trial, much depression and much peace, and which she was now daily to leave; this cost a sigh, but she was prepared to impart the tidings most cheerfully to her husband, when he came in to partake of the poor meal they called tea. Before this was quite ready, however, he came into the room with a more animated countenance than he had worn for some time, and exhibited before the eyes of his wife a glittering sovereign, all taken in his shop and for value received. The mystery was told, but not quickly, for Walters felt a delight, a thankfulness on this occasion which could only be guessed at by those who have been in something of the same circumstances. He had been standing at his shelves, gazing at some books which appeared destined to remain there, and on turning round, observed a gentleman, a middle aged man, of an aspect different from the common, with a clerical hat and black dress, standing outside the window, and holding a pair of silver spectacles which he had drawn from their case, between his eyes and the glass, as he read over the titles, and perhaps a little more, of the tracts that lay within it. Walters surveyed him with anxiety and almost gasped for breath, as he withdrew the spectacles and stepped into the shop. What a wonderful and blessed thing is the communication of the heart of man with Heaven!with a Being whom the Heavens, and the Heaven of Heavens cannot contain-the infidel scoffs at the idea, he sees "clouds and darkness" only around the incomprehensible Jehovah, and therefore he hardens his heart against His fear, and says there is no God. But the believer rejoices in an ever-present God, who as a father pitieth his children, pitieth those who fear Him; and Walters' heart just breathed a supplication that this visit might be for good. He moved behind his counter, but not with that swift and cheerful manner, he used to do, when first on his own account he imitated the manner of the young man at Mr. B—~—'s, he was now accustomed to disappointment and prepared for it, and this feeling was expressed in his look and manner, as with a respectful bow he silently handed the gentleman the tract he asked for from the window. "Do you sell many "Not many, Sir." of these little works?" "This neighbourhood is not well calculated for their sale, I should think?" "It is not, Sir." "Then why do you keep them." "Because I approve of them, Sir," said Walters, slightly coloring. "Does your stock consist then chiefly of such?” "It does now, Sir, but I have some works, at least I wish to sell, works of general literature as well," and he handed the stranger a small elementary book. The gentleman nodded without looking at it, and turned to the shelves whereon Walters' choicest supply was ranged; he read over the names of some, and having selected a few of these and a number of tracts, Walters received the sovereign already alluded to, as the amount of their price. This event produced abundant conversation for the husband and wife, and it was no small matter of lamentation that Walters had been so taken by surprise, that he had never recollected in the customary manner, to offer to send the parcel home, and consequently could have no notion who the new customer was, or whether he was ever likely to be a customer again. "We must wait the Lord's pleasure," said Walters after a pause. "Yes," said Esther, perceiving from the regret he felt, that the above named omission prevented his taking any steps to secure the interest of the new customer- "Yes, William, the Bible says, 'he that believeth shall not make haste,' and perhaps your ignorance in this respect will be the means of preventing your making hsate,' we cannot take the matter into 'our own hands, so it seems we must leave it in the Lord's." [To be continued.] Instance of the Paternal Providence of God. -- REMARKABLE DELIVERANCE. "The Lord hath given his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.”—Ps. xci. 11, 12. In the town of Saalfield there were formerly many more mines than there are at present, but a number of those that are no longer used are still existing, and many a house over a shaft which is of greater depth than the highest steeple. There was a shaft of this kind in the cellar of a house, in which a widow dwelt with her daughter, a girl of about seven years of age. The opening of the shaft was covered with boards, and no one thought of any danger. One summer's day, the widow sent her daughter into the cellar to fetch a pitcher of cyder. The child being somewhat afraid of the dark cellar, sprang hastily into it, and just as she had seized hold of the pitcher, the boards, laid over the shaft on which she was standing, suddenly gave way, and she sank with a loud cry, into the horrible abyss. The mother, who happened just at the time to be in the kitchen, heard as she thought, a cry which proceeded from her daughter; she hastened with a light into the cellar, and as she saw nothing of her child, but found the opening made over the shaft, her knees trembled to such a degree that she almost fell into the pit after her. She had hastened up the steps, and called aloud for help; she was at length heard by some of her female neighbours, most of the people being occupied in the fields with getting in the harvest. They ran to the spot, looked down into the dark pit, and wrung their hands, but knew not how to afford any help. All at once the child was heard calling J out of the gloomy abyss "Oh, for God's sake, help me help me! but quickly, quickly!" ! A hook on one side of the shaft, to which, in former times, a ladder had probably been attached, had caught the girl's sash, whilst she was falling, and by this hung the unfortu nate child. When they heard above that the girl was still alive, and yet knew not how to rescue her, their lamentations became louder, and the inconsolable mother was almost in despair. Meanwhile the spectators continued to increase, but none of them could advise what was to be done. An old miner, however, now made his appearance, who began carefully to enlarge the opening, and then fetched a miner's windlass, to which a bucket was fastened; but however much haste was made, much time was spent over it. Many of the bystanders prayed aloud, and in the dreadful moments of consciousness which the child occasionally had, though she was the greatest part of the time in a state of stupefaction, she heard from above only single words of funeral hymns and prayers for persons in danger of death; whilst the mother, overpowered by grief, stood silent and motionless. The old miner spoke little, but prayed in a low voice by himself to God; and when every thing was ready for his descent, he committed himself to his Saviour, and entered the bucket with a miner's lamp. He was let down carefully and circumspectly. During his descent he prayed thus :"Dear Father in heaven, thou hast graciously preserved me for so many years, even to old age, from so many dangers which have threatened me in my calling as a miner, and with thine assistance I have brought to light so many earthly treasures which, after all, are only vain and transitory. I know that thou wilt also now protect me by thine omnipotence and love, and wilt strengthen my aged hands to rescue the unfortunate child from the gloomy pit, and enable me to restore it to the arms of its unhappy mother. Yes, I feel assured that thou wilt still grant me this joy in my old days. Father, thy will be done!" The child saw the light approaching her, in the darkness that enveloped her, like a star sent from God. She lifted up her little hands, and the same moment the pitcher, which she had hitherto convulsively grasped, escaped her hold, and fell from rock to rock into the abyss. Those that were standing above turned pale, and a death-like stillness prevailed. But the old miner was soon so near the child that she 'could see him. He spoke encouragingly to her, and told her to keep herself perfectly quiet, for that he hoped, with the help of God, to rescue her. But the shaft grew more and more narrow, and the old man was afraid that he should be unable to pass the child without touching her, and if he came only a little too close she might then be cast down into the horrible pit, and be dashed upon the rocks beneath. The danger was very great; he therefore gave a sign not to be let further down, and reached the child a rope with a noose; she seized hold of it and was soon lifted up a little. At length she was able to touch the hovering bucket with one hand, and then also with the other. That moment the hook, by which the child had so wonderfully hung, gave way, and fell into the pit; but the Lord strengthened the old man to hold the rope to which the child clung. He lifted her into the bucket to him, and called out to the people above, "Thank God with me! I have got the child !" Had the hook been torn a moment earlier from the wall, the child would have fallen irrecoverably into the abyss. Let him that has the ability imagine to himself the feelings of the mother. She frequently said afterwards, “The exclamation of the miner at first penetrated my heart with terror, for I could not conceive it possible that my child was saved; I fell upon the ground, and could only weep. But when the light ascended higher, and I saw my child, and perceived that she was still alive, it seemed to me as if hea ven with all its glory unfolded itself before me. I shall never forget these blissful moments, and this day of horrors was the means of truly strengthening and establishing me in the belief in the paternal love of God. The child now arrived at the opening; the good old man presented her to her mother with a countenance glistening with joy. She took her, and would not let her leave her arms; and, if she loved her before, she was now doubly dear to her, since the paternal eye of God had watched. over her in such an extraordinary manner. The pale complexion which the child brought with her out of the shaft, and which was owing to the dreadful fright, never left her during her whole life, but remained with her as a perpetual memento of the great things which the Lord did for her on that day in delivering her from death. THE COMING OF ELIASOT REV. SIR. Since writing the paper which appeared in the Beacon for June last, I have met with the following note in Dr. Wolffe's Journal, just published. If you should think proper to insert it, the testimony of the celebrated Augustin, in primitive times, will be found to agree with the view taken of a remarkable passage of scripture, by a humble enquirer after divine truth at the present day.—I am, Rev. Sir, Your's most truly, *,"! G. Christ. And so, CHESTER, October 8, 1839. V AUGUSTIN TREATISE, iv. John i. 21. Art thou Elias? He answered, No." For Christ sent Elias before Him, and He answered "I am not He;" and (thus) proposes a question for us, For it is to be feared that less intelligent persons might think that John had spoken contrary things to what Christ had spoken: for in a certain passage, when our Lord Jesus Christ was speaking in the Gospel of the things concerning Himself, his disciples answered Him, "How then say the scribes ?" i. c. those who were skilled in the law-" that Elias must first come? And the Lord said, Elias has come already, and they have done to him whatsoever they would; and if you desire to know, he is John the Baptist." Our Lord Jesus Christ said Elias hath already come, and John the Baptist is he. But when the same John was asked, he confessed that he was not Elias, just manner as he confessed that he was not the as he confessed the truth (in saying) that he was not the Christ, so also did he confess the truth (in saying) that he was not Elias. How then shall we reconcile the sayings of the forerunner with the sayings of the judge? It cannot be that the forerunner spoke what was false, for he spoke only that which he had heard from the judge. Wherefore then did he say, "I am not Elias:" and the Lord said he is Elias?" Because in him, our Lord would prefigure his own second advent, and would say this, because John came in the spirit of Elias. And that which John was at the first advent, the same will Elias be at the second advent.. Like as there are two comings of the judge, so are there two forerunners. The judge indeed is the same; but two forerunners, not two judges, For it was necessary that the judge should first come to judge. He sent before him then the first herald, he called him Elias, because Elias will be the same in the second coming, as John was in the first. For let your kindness pay attention while I speak what is true. When John was conceived, or rather when he was born, the Holy Ghost prophesied that this should be fulfilled in him, and he shall be," he said, "the forerunner of the Most High (Luke i. 17.) in the spirit and power of Elias?" What means "in the spirit and power of Elias?" In the same Holy Ghost, in the place of Elias. Of Elias? Because Elias will be at the second what John was at his first coming. Most correctly, therefore, and properly did John reply, For our Lord spoke figuratively Elias is John.' But he, as I have said, spoke correctly, "I am not Elias."---Page 368, " The Believer's Danger and Safety. The Society of Christian Brothers at Chester is composed chiefly of young men, who meet every Wednesday Morning at six o'clock; when, after a Hymn is sung, a portion of Scripture is read, and a prayer is offered by the Clergyman present. A paper written by each of the members in turn on some subject connected with the Christian Truth is then read. This is followed by conversation on the subject of the paper. The Gloria Patria is sung, and the meeting is concluded. The following paper was written and read by one of the members on Wednesday, October 2, 1839. IDLE security must not be the position of the Christian. In this life he is surrounded with dangers as varied as they are numerous, every one of which calls for activity and vigilance, if ever he would wish to maintain the good fight of faith, and finally come off victorious. There is nothing a General dreads more than to be taken unawares; there is no disadvantage so great as to be taken by surprise. This false security appears to me the first danger a Christian should guard against, as it is the most certain to lead him into all others. And it is a danger into which a Christian is most likely to fall in the present condition of the Church. The enemy is thought to be at a distance, and the Christian armour is, too frequently thrown off, or at least, allowed to become tarnished with disuse. Consider how brightly that armour shone during the dark night of tyranny and oppression, when martyrs were falling almost daily under the persecutor's hand, and you will have some idea of what it still ought to be. The enemy is still amongst us; he is only acting a more insidious part, and demands on our part, if possible, a greater degree of vigilance. Where then is the danger? We may answer it is within and without. There is safety no longer in the walls of our own righteousness; they were battered down to the ground in the days of Adam; and since that time the enemy has been continually storming the very citadel of man's heart; turning that, which ought to be the temple of the living God, into the habitation of unclean spirits. There is then danger enough to rouse the slumbering energies of every one who cares for his own safety. We have an enemy of mighty power to resist; an enemy too of most artful address and consummate skill; an enemy filled with envy and rage, and as a roaring lion going about seeking whom he may devour. As Christ warned St. Peter, so we may apply the warning to ourselves; Simon, Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to have you that he may sift you as wheat. Yes! there is not a Christian whom Satan has not desired to have, whom he is not constantly labouring to lead away captive at his will. Nor is this the only enemy the Church militant has to struggle against. We find innumerable traitors in and around us, ever ready to betray us. Within us we find, 1. Natural inclination to sin 2. Inability to do good: 3. A deceitful heart. There is a strange contradiction in human nature; while we approve that which is amiable and good, we are often powerfully inclined to evil. Every Christian must have felt a difficulty in refusing the evil and choosing the good; before he can do so many a victory must be gained over self; a perpetual struggle must go on; for he must have discovered that there is a law in his members warring against the law of his mind. This is a strong tower which the enemy has gained within the very citadel. It is a tower from which he can view all the weak and undefended points of the city, and throw his weapons with double effect. And shall the Christian say there is no danger at hand to be guarded against? While Satan is watching dare the Christian sleep at his post? St. Paul had no feelings of inactive security, when the severity of the conflict compelled him to cry out, "Who shall deliver me from the body of this death?" But should any one say, I feel within myself no such necessity for this perpetual watchfulness, for this " severe struggle." Be assured it is a bad sign: if you have one grace worth maintaining the devil will not cease to harass you, and if you would keep it you must struggle, there must be a conflict. But have you not discovered some weak point that requires constant and redoubled endeavours for its defence? Have you not a besetting sin? Have you not discovered some sin, into which from nature, inclination, or habit you are most likely to fall? If you have not, this too is a bad sign. Undoubtedly the devil knows how to take advantage of our peculiar situations, dispositions, and inclinations, and woe to him who is off his guard when temp. tation cometh. When Christ warned Peter of his too great confidence of security, we do not read that Peter was brought to a greater degree of diligence in watchfulness and prayer: and what was the consequence? He was surprised, and the enemy obtained a temporary advantage, and though but a temporary one, it must have cost him much inward sorrow, and many a bitter reflection. 2. Again, when by the grace of God and the influence of the Holy Spirit, our wills and affections have been regulated, even then we find in ourselves an utter inability to satisfy the just demands of God, and to keep his righteous laws with that perfect unsinning obedience which he requires. Of this Satan also takes advantage, and representing to our minds the greatness of our own sinfulness, would fain drive us to despair. The confident and bold he lulls into dangerous security, and the timorous and awakened Christian he endeavours to thrust down into the depths of despondency. 3. Again, we are in danger of being deceived by sin and our own hearts. In reviewing the conduct of other men, we are generally sharp-sighted enough in finding out their failings and short comings; but when the case becomes our own, we view them through a false medium, and we too often feel inclined to spare Agag. Thus our own corrupt hearts, through their deceitfulness, too often lead us to comply with the suggestions of the evil one; the heart of man is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked; who can know it? The experience of every one must bear testimony to this truth, that evil thoughts are continually rising in our hearts, and if not carefully resisted will grow up to evil actions. But besides these enemies within, we are constantly beset with enemies without. Besides the devil and his host of evil angels, we have another dangerous enemy to resist; one with which we are obliged to be intimately acquainted. The world with all its deceitful pleasures, is continually trying to divert our thoughts from the one thing needful. It places before us all its false joys and imaginary grandeur, and whispers with silent accents, if thou wilt fall down and worship me all shall be thine, But though the Christian is in the world, he is not of the world, even as Christ was not of the world. His citizenship is in heaven, and his walk on earth is a continual journeying thitherward. The world, however, does not allow him to pass on his journey unmolested, but sets before him false views of the heavenly Canaan, and like the Jews of old, persuades him almost to turn back to Egypt, and many, alas perish in the wilderness. There is yet another danger the Christian is exposed to from his unavoidable intercourse with the world. The world is indeed a wilderness, and Satan, the roaring lion, is not the only wild beast that infests it. There are his emissaries, the false prophets; wolves wandering about in sheep's clothing; greedily performing the destructive work of their mas ter the devil, and so transforming themselves into angels of light, as to deceive if it were possible the very elect. This is necessarily a very brief view of the believer's danger. Our enemies are many, they are powerful, they have gained some strong holds within our hearts and must be ejected: we have to wrestle not only against flesh and blood, but against principalities and powers, &c. And who is sufficient for these things? No man; no mere unassisted man. Where then is our safety? It is in the Captain of our salvation; one who has already fought and vanquished every enemy we have to contend with, the world the flesh, and the devil; one who graciously waits with the invitation of safety for every one on his lips, "Come unto me and be saved." The angels' Lord himself is nigh A just sense of our great danger is indeed enough to make us exclaim with Elisha's servant, "Alas! how shall we do?" It is enough to excite our fears, until we see, as he did, with other eyes, the eyes of faith, that more are they that are with us, than they that are against us. Angels unseen attend the saints, And bear them in their arms, To them that love his name, To cheer the spirit when it faints, Ready to save them when they cry, And guard their life from harms. And put their foes to shame. In Christ there is perfect safety from all danger. He has vanquished every enemy, and holds them all obedient to his command. When sin within raises its stormy waves, and we are forced to cry, "Save, Lord, we perish," he has only to say," Peace, be still, and there will be a great calm." "With authority," also, "he commands the unclean spirits to come out, and they obey him." And when Satan, with great rage accuses the saints before God, and would hurry them away to his own dismal abode, still there is safety; Christ has died, and there is no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus. And our faithful High Priest has entered into the Holy of Holies to make intercession for us, and is still praying for us that our faith fail not. Satan will still desire to sift us as wheat, but his winnowing winds of temptation and afflictions, by God's grace, will issue in our own good; they will dissipate the chaff, and leave the wheat more clean and valuable; each fiery trial overcome, will cleanse away some dross and leave the gold still more pure. In conclusion, I would repeat, the religion of Christ is not an inactive religion. It is true he has done all which was necessary to save us; his sacrifice is complete, and its value can never be increased by anything we can do: but, there are appointed means of grace which no Christian can neglect; there are commands which no Christian can think of disobeying. And of these prayer is a most important one. As prayer is abated every grace sensibly declines, if our weary arms hang down Amalek will prevail. By prayer we are to obtain continual supplies of that grace which is sufficient to support us against every danger, and to keep us safe unto the great day. By prayer we are to ask the Holy Spirit to come and dwell in our hearts, for without his influence there can be no safety. He alone can prepare us for the reception of God's mercies in Jesus Christ; he alone can lead us into all truth; and by him alone can we be sealed unto the day of redemption. I hope this subject will not be dismissed without some practical application of it with regard to this meeting. We have banded ourselves together as a Society of Christian Brothers, who have the same object in view, the glory of God, the good of our fellow creatures, and our own mutual improvement; and I think if we duly improve the opportunities it affords us, our weekly meeting may be made an excellent way of preparation of meeting those dangers to which all are in a greater or less degree exposed. We see the zeal and unwearied diligence of infidels and sceptics, they compass sea and land to make one proselyte, and I do hope none of us will think it too much to watch one hour. SUNDAY SCHOOL PRAYERS, "Jesus said, Suffer little children, and forbid them not to come unto me." St. Matt. xix. 14. To the Editor of the Christian Beacon. SIR,I send the following short prayers with the hope that you will approve of them sufficiently to give them a place in the Christian Beacon-They were compiled at the r tequest of a Lady, who has been for some years an efficient eacher in one of the Sunday Schools of our city; and have been found not altogether useless in that school. I now offer them for insertion in the Beacon, with the hope that they may assist other teachers who may desire to avail themselves of help in the important exercise of leading the prayers of a Sabbath School.-To Sunday School Teachers, through whose instrumentality the good seed of divine truth is not unfrequently sown in the youthful heart, I would desire to address a few words, think. ing it may, perhaps, be as well to mention my reasons for not aiming at the greatest possible simplicity of style. I think that children who have received religious instruction are better able to join in prayers such as these than might generally be imagined.-I am not sure that the most childish form of prayer is the most profitable when we pray with children.-They are extremely quick in discovering when we are as it were getting up a part for them, and in proportion as they think that we ourselves are not in earnest for ourselves as well as for them, does their interest in and their reverence for united prayer decrease. I do not of course intend to say that it is well to pray with children in language incomprehen sible to the young uneducated mind;-I only mean that I do not conceive the style I have adopted to be beyond the comprehension of childhood, especially if opportunities were taken to enforce and explain the different petitions which form the prayer. Should I be presuming if I were here to remark that this reference to and explanation of the prayer is essential, humanly speaking, to the profitable use of either these, or any other forms of prayer? The young in a peculiar degree require precept upon precept, line upon line; and the best means, at least so far as my judgment goes, of inducing the serious attention of children at prayer is occasionally to press upon their consideration the meaning of our addresses to the throne of grace; of course I speak of this and similar plans as means.— Fully indeed am I aware of the utter worthlessness of all human teaching when unaccompanied with the divine blessing, and deeply am I sensible that the Spirit of God must be present wherever the poor weak water of human persuasion is changed into the good refreshing wine of His own gracious teachings.-I have spoken of the children; I would say a few words as to the teachers. I do not believe that a child's prayer is calculated to cheer and encourage the mind of a teacher about to commence the labours of the Sabbath School, and I think that the teacher should not be overlooked in our anxiety to render our language intelligible to the child. I know absolutely nothing of Sunday School teaching, but I can well imagine how much the teacher needs a few words of prayer in language which the heart can feel. I trust I shall not be considered presumptuous for thus expressing my opinions, and for committing the following short prayers to print. I am warmly attached to the cause of education generally. I take a deep interest in all that concerns the young, whether they be high or low, rich or poor. I am engaged, though in a very limited scale, in the important and responsible employment of an instructor of youth, and I always seize with gratitude and pleasure every opportunity of being in any degree useful to the ris ing generation. This will, I trust, plead my excuse for the appearance of these prayers in their present shape; 1 confess it is delightful to me to feel on the Sabbath morning that they may be assisting the devotions of many a Sabbath School teacher and many a Sabbath School child. May He, who sometimes works by the weakest instrument, vouchsafe His blessing upon this humble offering. PRAYER I. O LORD, thou great and only God, teach us to pray unto thee. May we love this sacred day, and let us remember to keep it holy. May we serve our blessed Saviour on this his own day, and gain more knowledge of Him continually. Let us love to hear and to read of Him, and help us to feel that He is indeed our Saviour and our God. Lord, be thou with us both here and when we are in thy house of prayer. Help us to watch over our thoughts, Almighty God, remind us that thine eye will be upon us this day, and help us to spend it in thy service, and to thy glory. Bless to each of us, O Lord, this our meeting together. O do thou, who in the days of thy flesh didst say Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not," look with the like tender compassion upon these, and draw them unto thyself. Keep them from wicked thoughts, wicked tempers, wicked words, wicked deeds, and wicked companions. O God, prepare them to receive instruction. Make every one of these children gentle, humble, and contented; make them "true and just in all their dealing;" help them to be very careful to speak the truth, remembering that "lying lips are abomination to thee." Make them, O Lord, to love what thou lovest, and to hate what thou hatest. And, Lord, enable them to pray for themselves. Let them not only kneel down before thee, but let them also pray to thee in spirit and in truth. Let the heart of each of them say for himself [herself] Lord, I am a poor, weak, sinful child, but do thou forgive me, and teach me, and help me for Jesus Christ's sake. We humbly and earnestly beseech thee, O Lord, to cause the dew of thy blessing to rest on this our Sabbath School. Make us praying teachers, and praying children. We know that of ourselves we can do nothing well, but we also know that with thee "all things are possible;" we know that we are weak, but we also know that thou canst make us strong. We know that thou canst bless each feeble word. We know that thou canst bless every sincere endeavour to bring up these children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. O, let every instruction that is given here be according to thy will, and be given in dependence on thy blessing. We beseech thee to bless to the present and eternal good of each child now bowing down before thee every instruction which they shall here receive. And, O Lord, if any of these thy children have already received at our hands any spiritual improvement, accept our poor imperfect thanks for making us thy servants the honoured instruments of good unto their souls. O enable us with our hearts, as well as with our lips, to say, "Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name be the praise." mighty God, forgive us all our sins for thy dear Son's sake. Bless our friends and relations, and all for whom we ought to pray, and bring us all to thine own happy kingdom through Jesus Christ, our only Lord and Saviour. Amen. M. P. H. A TRUE STORY. Al The following distressing history is taken from a little work lately published by the Rev. J. A. James, who vouches for its truth "without any exaggeration or embellishment." Would that it were an insulated case; and may every young man who reads the sad tale "take heed and beware." A YOUNG man left his father's house in the country, at the age of fifteen. He had a pious mother, and had been the subject of early religious instructions and impressions. After he began to reside in the city, according to his parent's directions, he attended for a while upon the faithful preaching of the gospel, and was of hopeful habits. He, however, kept himself aloof from the more personal and special means of religion, yet still believing it to be important, and designing to attend to it at a future time. He formed an acquaintance with associates less favourable to piety, with whom his feelings gradually learned to sympathize. He went on in this way for four or five years without much obvious change; though he was, of course, resisting convictions, hardening his heart, grieving the Spirit of God, and laying the foundation of his moral ruin. He often received letters from his mother, reminding him of his duty, and urging him to it; over some of which he was constrained to drop a tear, and make good resolutions. But the way of his heart was backward from God. Every month hardened him the more in impiety. He at length began to visit rather freely the theatre, and other dissipating amusements and pleasures. His place in the house of God was sometimes vacated, especially in the afternoon, and he was scarcely ever at the evening religious lectures. His mother's letters he read with less attention than formerly; for he had begun to suppose himself a young man of some consequence, quite competent to think and judge for himself, without her assistance: he thought, indeed, she was a kind and good mother, but that she did not know so much about the customs of the city, and what was most becoming a young man in his situation, as himself. About this time, he fell in with some sceptical writings. He at first hesitated as to reading them; but as he had attended infidel meetings once or twice without experiencing any harm, he thought there could be no danger in just seeing what its writers had to say, especially as it was his principle to examine all sides. He first read, then doubted, then began to be more wise than all his teachers; and at length slid quite over into the yawning gulf! His seat in the house of God, at first only occasionally deserted, was at length quite forsaken. He was now quite prepared for more desperate steps. He lost his situation from certain irregularities and vices; and all know how difficult it is for a young man to obtaiu a second place, when the first is forfeited by improper conduct. He at length succeeded in finding employment, but it was not such as he had lost. It was a much humbler and more menial condition to which he found himself reduced. His ambition was broken down; he was mortified and discouraged. This subjected him still more to the power of the baser motives. To these he continued to yield more and more; losing of course what remained of selfrespect, and falling under those severe lashes of selfreproach which, if they do not bring to repentance, drive to more desperate lengths in sin. I will not detail the sad particulars respecting his subsequent course for four or five years. After several fruitless attempts to retrieve his circumstances, he changed his place of residence, hoping to do better. But his character and habits went with him. For five years he did not write a single letter to his parents, and according to his statement they did not know any thing of him; although they were most of the time only about a hundred and fifty miles distant. But he had determined that neither they nor any of his former acquaintances should know where he was, or what he was doing. а He attempted to act upon the stage, but could not suc ceed. He even undertook to be a juggler, but soon found it quite out of his province. He began to gamble; but usually lost when he had any thing to lose. How he obtained the means of subsistence during his years of profli gacy, they can tell who are acquainted with that manner of life better than I can. He wandered from place to place, prodigal, reckless, forlorn, rapidly wasting his health, till at length he was reduced to the condition in which I first saw him. One day an individual applied to me, and said, 'There is a young man at my house, whom I am desirous you should visit. We took him in some three or four weeks since, out of charity; for he is destitute, homeless, and sick; although he is a young man of respectable manners, and appears to have seen better days. But we cannot get much out of bim. He is not inclined to talk. The physician thinks that he is in a fixed and rapid consumption. He has a wasting cough, with night sweats, seems to be very much dejected, says but little, and is at times appar |