be admitted into confidence, if confidence is not justified by the way in which it is observed.

I must

I must carry this caution farther. carry it to other scenes and other places; to scenes and places where it might seem that confidence might be broken without notice, and where its breach could never lead to harm.

Such are my views of the sacredness of home, that I feel that Visitors have no right to converse freely or generally as to what they may have seen or heard in their Districts; nor can I doubt that extensive evil may be done to the Visitors themselves from tampering with their feelings of right in this respect. In the midst of the wretchedness of poverty, there is much that is incongruous, much that is ludicrous; much that a lively imagination may present in a very ridiculous and entertaining form, and may turn into a subject of amusement. The parties so described may never hear nor suspect the liberty taken with their circumstances, and might not care about it if they did. But nothing that is wrong in principle fails of doing evil in practice. The poor who are spoken of are not injured, but those who speak of them, in this manner, suffer. He that oppresseth the poor, says Solomon, reproacheth his Maker; and I cannot think that he who makes their circumstances a joke can be blameless in the sight of God. In truth poverty is a sacred subject, for it is a sad subject. It has too much of the primeval curse belonging to it, to be ever spoken of with indifference by men. It should never be approached, never be mentioned, but in a tone of sympathy and tenderness; and though there may be occasions when the heart shall be full of kindness while the fancy is entertained by the caricature of circumstances which it is pourtraying; the invariable effect of levity is to harden the heart, and to deaden. the sensibilities; to substitute a different feeling from that which ought to have been produced, and to leave man with less of love for God, and less of love for his neighbour than he had before.

If, therefore, it should happen that the individuals who move among the poor, as the accredited agents of Christian kindness, yield to this temptation; if they are entertained with the levity which they see in those they visit; or if they indulge their own levity in the descriptions that they draw, I can have no doubt as to the result. They will lose that high-toned feeling which forms the real principle of their employment. The fund from which they draw their interest will be exhausted. They will give up a work in disgust which has ceased to amuse them; and they will retire from it under the withering influence of a scoffing sneering spirit, rendered habitual through indulgence.

The tone of the preceeding remarks may,

perhaps, have prepared you for the last sugges tion which I feel called to make; and that is, that the work should not only be begun, but be carried on in a spirit of Prayer. The dangers of the office, and the advantages of the office; the good that may be done, and the good that may be marred are such, that I feel I do not rate the work too highly in saying, that it deserves and requires a special commendation to God for his blessing.

If all District Visitors made a point of giving a few minutes to meditation and prayer before they proceeded to their field of labour; and if they were equally firm in reserving a few minutes for recollection and prayer when they returned, it would be easier to maintain that calm, sober, steady frame of mind, which is desirable. The work would become more interesting from this constant reference of its objects to God; and the work would be better done, while his guidance and support were continually implored. It must have its trials, it must have its temptations, but how shall the one be borne, or how shall the other be avoided, save under His protection; at the same time, all its joys, and it has many joys; will be sanctified in their nature, and increased in their amount by their reference to Him, as the source from which they are derived. Y. S.

The Effect of Household Godliness,

MR. B., a Scotchman, had left his native country to settle in America, and had taken up his residence in the neighbourhood of New York. He there led a peaceful and happy life with his family, which consisted of his wife, four children, and his venerable mother-in-law.

In the year 1805, the yellow fever appeared in New York, and made dreadful havoc among the inhabitants. One evening Mr B. on returning home, said to his wife, "I fear, my love, that I have done what will not be very agreeable to you." His wife asked what it was. He answered, "I met an old school-fellow today, a countryman of my own, and I have invited him to come and stay with us, till this epidemic has ceased its ravages." His wife said, "I do not see any thing particularly disagreeable in that." Mr. B. rejoined,

perhaps not, but I fear that you and he will not agree about politics." She answered, that if that were all, it would be easy to avoid the subject. Her husband replied, "unfortunately that is not all; for there is another point on which you will agree still less. My friend M. has not only adopted the political opinions of the also. In a word, he is an Infidel!" French revolutionists, but their religious principles "That is very

sad indeed;" replied his wife. "How can we in that case receive him in a way that will be agreeable to him, and yet fulfil those duties which must be performed in a christian family?" "My dear wife," he answered, "we will not neglect one of those duties, and I look to you to help me in the strict observance of them. When the hour for family worship has ar

rived, you must assemble the family, and we will perform our accustomed act of duty. Mr. M. is a wellbred man, and however opposed he may be to religion in his heart, good breeding will prevent him from throwing any thing like ridicule on what may take place in his presence."

Mr. M. arrived in the course of the evening, and some hours were spent by the former school-fellows, in recalling many sweet associations of their native land, and the joyous games of their childhood, and the wild and beautiful scenery of their Scottish mountain land. At nine o'clock, their accustomed hour, Mrs. B. rang the bell to assemble the family for evening worship; and turning to her guest, she said, "we have kept up the good old Scottish custom of having family prayers before we separate for the night. I hope you will not object to unite with us.” "Certainly not," answered Mr. M. "I should be very sorry to occasion the slightest change in any of your domestic arrange

ments."

The family assembled, and Mr. M. knelt down with the others. On rising up, told his hostess that he had not bent his knee for the same purpose as he had done that evening for more than ten years. This avowal brought on a conversation on serious subjects, which lasted till the night was far spent; Mr. M. bringing forward his objections against religion, and maintaining them with the greatest tenacity, though with the utmost politeness of manner.

The next day, and every succeeding day, the conversation was renewed. Mr. and Mrs. B. in confuting the arguments, and combating the doubts of their guest, spoke with great gentleness, and forbearance. Far from saying, by the spirit of their conduct, "stand apart for I am holier than thou," they often said to each other, "who has made us to differ?" And together they prayed that God would take compassion on their poor deluded and blinded friend, and that He would bless their conversations with him, so that his eyes might be opened to the perilous state in which he then was.

One day that Mr. M. was conversing with the old mother-in-law, he said, "I have gone through many countries, and have seen many families, but no where have I witnessed such perfect and uninterrupted happiness as in this house." 66 Perhaps," ," answered this venerable servant of God, 66 you have never been among those who have a firm hope in Christ, and who know that all things both in time and in eternity, shall work together for the good of those who love God.' You have guessed right," he said, "for since I left my father's house, I have seldom been in the company of pious persons."

Mr. M. remained some time under the roof of these devoted christians, and had attached himself particularly to one of their children, a little girl of two years old, often carrying her about the garden with him, and singing his old Scotch songs to amuse her.

The epidemic having ceased, this gentleman returned to the city of New York, to make his preparations, previously to embarking for the West Indies, where his affairs required his presence. During his absence it pleased God to call to himself the gentle little girl

who had attracted his attention, and won his affections. On his return to New York, it was some time before he could make up his mind to go and see his friends who had been visited with such affliction while he was away; for he feared that the sight of him would renew the first grief of the bereaved mother. He did go, however, and religion became again the subject of all their conversations.

About this time Mr. M. sustained some heavy losses in commerce. His christian friends came forward to assist him, and through their means he once more prepared to set out for the West Indies. In thinking of his earthly concerns, they were also careful to provide for his spiritual wants. Mrs. B. among other little presents sent him a pocket bible, and on the fly leafshe, inarked down several passages which she judged suited to make an impression on the mind of an unbeliever. The mother-in-law added Doddridge's Rise and Progress, and the husband wrote a long letter, on the envelope of which he put "not to be opened till out at sea."

Several months passed away, and they heard nothing of Mr. M., but the three friends often spoke of him, and very often remembered him when before the Throne of Grace. They began to entertain some faint hopes about him, for they could not help thinking that during his last visit, he had appeared more thoughtful than usual, and that he had of his own accord sought to renew their conversations on religious snbjects. last they received a letter from him, at the end of which he said, that he never could hope to taste the happiness which they enjoyed, because his life had been spent in such a manner as utterly to exclude the thought of ever obtaining the favor of God.

At

Two years from that time, Mr. M. was again in the same room where he had knelt down for the first time during ten years. He related to Mrs. B. and another friend who is no longer living, how he had found peace of mind through faith in Jesus Christ. We will give the account in his own words.

"It was here," he said, pointing with his finger to the floor of the apartment, "is was here that 1 knelt down to please man, while my heart was full of enmity against God. Ch! the long suffering! the wonderful mercy of the Lord! who has vouchsafed to make a child of adoption of a miserable wretch such as I was! When I found myself on my knees, a thousand recollections and associations of my early childhood rushed to my mind. I did not hear one word of Mr. B.'s prayer; for my thoughts were far away in the dear home where I had passed the first years of my life. I rose from my knees, as if I had just awakened from a dream, and from that moment the thought constantly returned to my mind; if the Bible is true, what will become of me?

"When God called your dear child from this world, I was filled with anger. Is this, I said to myself, the God of whose mercy and righteousness they so much boast? Does He in this way reward His most faithful servants? I felt so indignant that, had I possessed the power, I would have dragged Him from His throne. But when I came to see you, I was at once struck and deeply affected on beholding the consolation which religion

could afford under such an overwhelming trial. Whenever I conversed with you and the other members of your family, I felt that christians must have some source of happiness which was wholly unknown to me. I began to love to hear you talk about religion; and whenever I left you, I was haunted by the thought, that all those ny expectations of happiness which were founded on liberty, equality, the perfectibility of human nature, were but vain shadows; and that if I wished to grasp at solid and incontestible realities, I must replace all my infidel publications by that Book which till now I had looked upon as a compilation of fables fit only for old women.

66

"When our ship was out at sea, I read Mr. B.'s letter, and just looked through the books which accompanied it, every word I read, was a sentence of condemnation against myself. I saw that the Bible declared memiserable, and poor, and blind, and naked,' and that I could have no hope whatever, but through the free mercy of that God whom I had offended. But still I fought against conviction; to begin a life of piety would have been to compromise all my worldly projects; I dreaded the laughter of my old companions; and as an influx of business pressed upon me, my mind was not long occupied with thoughts of conversion. I put the letter and the books at the bottom of my portmanteau, and tried to forget all about them. I was successful in my plans, and it was then that I wrote to Mr. B. At the end of the letter, I put a few words to please, as I said to myself, these good people, who are certainly the most amiable enthusiasts I ever met with. These few lines procured me another letter from Mr. B., who in no ways suspected my hypocrisy, but who seemed to consider me as one deeply in earnest for the salvation of his soul. He advised me to procure Saurin's sermons, and to read the one which treats of the compassion of God towards sinners. I paid no attention to all these exhortations, and continued to pass my time with my gay companions, in one continued round of dissipation, carefully concealing the doubts and anguish of mind which from time to time would take possession of me.

A

A few months afterwards I was invited to a grand ball which was given in the town of A-. This was succeeded by a magnificent entertainment, when owing to the quantity of wine I drank, added to the dancing, I lost my self-possession, and self-control, and in attempting to walk home alone, I fell, and broke my arm. young surgeon, who was among the guests at the ball, set it, and while my merry companions returned to their several homes, I was left in a lower apartment of the house, which had been the scene of our festivities, stretched upon a bed of pain, where I passed a dreadful night; unable to close my eyes from the agony I suffered, occasioned by a consuming fever, but still more by the terrors of a conscience which was at last beginning to be awakened. Recollections of my early childhood now again presented themselves to my mind, and above all did I remember the tender warnings of my mother, who had so often urged me to draw near to God. Oh! I exclaimed, if I could but find the God of my mother, the God who could so powerfully comfort my friends at New York under their heavy affliction!

My recovery was long, because my arm had been badly set. I spent the time however in reading Saurin's sermons, and Doddridge, every word of which seemed to refer to my own particular case. I opened iny too long neglected Bible, and was brought to see and acknowledge the justness of my condemnation, and that there was no other way of salvation but through Christ Jesus. I turned to that blessed Saviour, and cast myself entirely upon Him, and blessed be God, before I left my chamber of sickness and suffering, I had found in Christ my Saviour, an advocate with the Father. My fears for the future now gave place to a joyful hope, and I leaned with my whole soul upon Him who justifies us from all sin. From this time I gave up all worldly society, and some weeks afterwards, hearing that the holy communion was about to be administered in one of the churches of A-, I earnestly desired that as that town had been the scene of my folly, it should be the witness of my heart-felt repentance, and humble trust in my Redeemer. I made a public and solemn dedication of myself to Him. I asked and received the sacred symbols of that body which was broken for us, and of that blood which was shed for the remission of our sins.

"And now, my dear friends, I ask you to unite with me in blessing and magnifying the name of our God, who has snatched me from such an abyss of unbelief, has washed me from my sins, and has set my feet firm upon the Rock of Ages."

Such was Mr. M.'s account, and from that time, he ceased not to walk faithfully in the ways of the Lord. His faith was evidenced by his works. Prayer meetings, Sunday schools, and every charitable and religious institution were the objects of his constant solicitude. He became one of the elders in his church, and justly obtained the glorious title of the Howard of G****.

Two of his friends have, since then, joined him in the heavenly mansions above; but though no longer npon earth, his example still remains, and will long be remembered among those who knew him here below." He being dead yet speaketh.”

And now, reader, we turn to you, and we ask you if you have at any time imbibed infidel opinions? Your Bible, if you have a Bible, does it remain unopened? Are your knees never bowed before the God who made you? If this is the case, take the example from the true story which you have just read. Do not weary yourself any longer in seeking happiness where you can never find it. Take your Bible; look at the 14th Psalm, and at the 1st verse you will find there the character of him who says in his heart, There is no God: and then consider and meditate over those precious words in the Prophet Isaiah: "Seek ye the Lord while He may be found, call ye upon Him, while He is near: let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and let him return unto the Lord, and He will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon." (55, 6, 7.)

Are you a poor man? and do you excuse yourself by saying that you have not time to read your Bible? Turn to the 127th Psalm, and at the 2nd verse read; "It is vain for you to rise up early, to sit up late, to eat the bread of sorrows;" and then look at the 6th chapter of Matthew, and at the 33rd verse. "Seek ye

first the kingdom of God, and His righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you." Obey this commandment, and believe the promise of your

Saviour.

Has the preceding account been read in a house where family worship is maintained? Let parents learn from it the great importance of instructing their children betimes in the fear of God, and in the knowledge of Jesus Christ. Let them be impressed with the necessity of faithfulness and consistency in their domestic walk. Let them contribute likewise by all the means in their power to the education of the youth in their neighbourhood, to Sunday schools, to asylums, and to all other institutions of the same nature.

And may this account serve equally to encourage the disciples of the Saviour in the practice of the commandments of God; let them be ever ready to bear testimony to the faith they profess, even before those who appear farthest from the kingdom of heaven; let then speak to them of the truths of christianity at every convenient opportunity; let them remember them in their prayers, and their labour will not be lost. In conclusion, Reader, whatever you are, as long as you neglect the Gospel, "you are spending your money for that which is not bread, and your labour for that which satisfieth not." Listen to, and accept this invitation from the Eternal God. "Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters; and he that hath no money; come ye, buy, and eat; yea, come, buy.wine and milk without money and without price." Isaiah 55, 1.

SCRIPTURE PORTRAITS.

No. 3.-Continued.

OUR FIRST PARENTS.

"THE disciple whom Jesus loved" appears to have imbibed no ordinary measure of the spirit which animated the bosom, on which it was his distinguished privilege to lean. Within that bosom, indeed, a spirit of love burned with an intenseness and a purity, which admits of no parallel. "God is Love ;" and Jesus was "God manifest in the flesh." Jesus, therefore, was Love personified; Love in perfection.

But if ever man had something of "the mind, which was in Christ Jesus,"-something of the tenderness of his heart,-something of the glow of his love,—it was John. It is impossible to read attentively his Epistles without being struck with this spirit of love as their pervading and distinguishing character. But it was not like the love of Eli, leading to a faint and feeble expostulation, where the occasion demanded the keenest pungeney of rebuke, the deepest solemnity of warning,

the

most ardent energy of exhortation. With his spirit of tender affection was combined a spirit of unshrinking faithfulness. We may adduce as an instance of this the fervent exhortation in which he unmasks the world: "Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world." (1 John, ii, 15, 16.)

The three great enemies to man's present peace, the three great barriers to man's future happiness, specified by St. John, may be seen united in the first transgression. She "saw that the tree was good for food there was the "lust of the flesh." She saw that it was I pleasant to the eyes:" there was the lust of the eyes." She was induced to eat by the flattering assurance, "Ye shall be as gods:" behold the "pride of life."

How futile, then, the infidel and impious attempts which have sometimes been made to extenuate this sin! Was that a light and venial transgression in which such ingredients were combined? We are not to look at the act simply as an act, but at the principles which it involved. And if the principles were those which have been stated;-if, also, it be obvious, that every single act, in which the will of the creator is violated by the creature, whatever, in human estimation, may appear it's amount of magnitude, is a positive act of rebellion against supreme and legitimate authority, and a positive act of ingratitude towards the greatest and best of benefactors, the folly of every infidel attempt to palliate the transgression in Paradise, is only to be equalled by it's impiety.

In the partner of her life Eve had a partaker of her guilt. The wily tempter had watched for and seized the opportunity of making his assault, when Adam was not with her to counsel and to warn. To this conclusion the narrative in Genesis, brief as it is, leads us; and we have in addition, the testimony of St. Paul: "And Adam was not deceived, but the woman being deceived was in the transgression." (1 Tim. ii. 14). But we do not adduce this testimony with a view to the aggravation of her guilt, and the extenuation of his. If, with his eyes fully open to the consequences with regard to his posterity, as well as to himself, the vehemence of his affection for her, led him to form the resolution of sharing in the ruin, which she had brought upon herself, however it may, in the eyes of some, invest the act with an air of attractive and romantic heroism, reduced to its proper elements, what was it but the inordinate love of a creature, over-mastering the love supremely due to the Creator, and usurping his throne in the bosom? What was it, in a word, but the preference of the creature to the Creator? Both were guilty; casting off, by the act of disobedience, their allegiance to Him, trampling under foot his authority, aud violating his covenant.

They "sowed to the wind;" they "reaped the whirlwind." Their eyes were, indeed, opened; but only to know that they were naked :-naked not merely in body, which, while perfect holiness and unsullied purity pervaded every thought, and reigned in every affection, had excited no sensation of disquietude and shamebut naked, also in soul; stripped of the image of God, of the favour of God, of the enjoyment of God,-of their holiness, their happiness, their peace,-destitute, miserable, forlorn. They knew good and evil; but how? The value of good by it's loss: the bitterness of evil, by it's experience. Thus are the promises of the tempter always performed. Thus are the victims of his artifices invariably deluded.

Under whatever form infidelity may appear, Satan is its

author and father. But he is no infidel himself: he believes and trembles. And sooner or later must all, who listen to his suggestions, and are influenced by his counsels, learn, like himself, to tremble. Our first parents soon made this discovery. How sweet to them before had been the voice of their God! Sweeter to their ears, sweeter to their hearts, than the music whose sounds, blending and softening with the air, are wafted over the waters of some stream upon a mild Autumnal evening, stealing upon the ear, and sinking into the heart. Alas! that voice now inspired no emotions but those of terror and dismay, and they attempted to hide themselves from his presence amongst the trees of the garden, Vain attempt! as vain as on the great day of his wrath, will be their call to the mountains and rocks, "Fall on us, and hide us from the face of him that sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb," who now, with unabashed brow, and unfaltering voice, boldly criticise and impiously cavil at the word of his inspiration; artfully insinuate their doubts, or daringly avow their disbelief of its statements; and lead the van in the ignoble army of the enemies and assailants of sacred truth.

Happy are they, to whom, through divine grace, the voice of the Lord is ever sweet, his presence ever welcome! His voice we hear not, indeed, audibly, as our first parents in Paradise. But it is the same voice

which speaks to us in the Holy Scriptures: and happy thrice happy they who can truly exclaim, with the son of Jesse, "How sweet are thy words unto my taste! Yea, sweeter than honey to my mouth!"

(To be continued.)

THE MERCHANT'S CLERK.

CHAPTER V,

I AM not writing a novel, or even a regular narrative; my reader must be contented with the wandering course of my story, for I must frankly confess that the narative of my life abounds with very common place circumstances, which I shall not trouble him with. I do wish to be of use to my reader, especially if he should be what I once was, a Merchant's Clerk. I shall therefore bring before him many scenes which I have myself witnessed, and I beg him to answer to himself, if my accounts are not according to the facts.

We had hitherto lived very quietly since my arrival in London. I accompanied the Arnolds to the Theatre, and I was much amused and very much wearied before the play was over. Mr. and Mrs. Arnold also gave a large dinner party, and I was present. They always lived, in what appeared to me, a very grand style, even when they saw no company; but on this occasion two cooks from Birch's were added to the establishment, and were for two days busily employed in preparing the dinner. When the dinner hour approached, and the company began to assemble in the drawing-room, and as the servants loudly announced them by name, I must confess I looked up with some reverence on the grave and portly gentlemen who were ushered up one after the other, for many of them were men celebrated in the mercantile world. While Mrs. Arnold conversed with their wives, and Julia and Mary with their daughters,

the gentlemen gathered together in a group, where the politics of the day, and state of the stocks, and the arrivals at Lloyd's, and such subjects were talked over with quiet complacency. Dinner was announced, and we were all soon seated at the sumptuous table, and I stared round in the brilliant lamp light, upon the splendid feast. Certainly nothing could be more dull than the conversation of this party for some little time. They had all excellent appetites, and I observed that some of the gentlemen looked anxiously impatient till the very short grace was said, and every seat was taken. Plates were quickly passed and quickly changed, and still, until the edge of the appetites were taken off, only a few ejaculations were uttered from time to time. I had heard much of the good appetites of city gentlemen, and I did not quite believe the account; but really on that day I was convinced that the report was well grounded. There were, however, some gentlemen present from the West end of the Town, who certainly shewed powers quite equal to those of their city friends. Before the second course was removed conversation became less abrupt, many persons looked up from their plates, and some began to converse very sensibly. Champagne, and hock, and various other wines were handed round, all having been preceded by cold punch, as an accompaniment to the turtle, of which there was an abundance. At last every tongue seemed loosened, and the conversation became general and animated, at times full of sense and character, and every thing was so new to me, that I could only look and listen, and forgot to eat or drink so much as I should otherwise have done. My attention was at one time quite engrossed by the conversation of a Mr. Standish, a young solicitor, who was giving a long and interesting account of a visit he had just made to France, to a very intelligent woman who sat next me.

When the ladies rose up to leave the room, I was sur prised at the look of satisfaction which spread round the room, as the gentlemen quickly pushed away the chairs which their fair companions had so lately occupied, and drew nearer to each other. Mr. Arnold went up to the head of the table, and as he passed, stirred the fire into a brighter blaze, and the butler brought in clean glasses, and cleared away much of the rich desert, to my regret, that he might make a free passage for the bottles.

How often one is told the old story of the Spartans, having made their slaves drunk to disgust their children with drunkenness; but it has sometimes occurred to me, that the dining-room of many an English gentleman when the ladies have left it, might have a good effect upon young persons in these days. I shall be told men do not drink now as they did some years ago. Very probably. They do not drink from glasses without feet to stand on, till the drinkers are unable even to sit round the table. No, men in these times only become very heavy, or very silly, or over-poweringly friendly, or uncommonly abusive, or disgustingly indecent; or, in a word any thing but what they are at other times. I had seen a drunken party before at Squire Burton's; but there, I know not how it was, I was not so much disgusted, of so much astonished, as with the party in Mr, Arnold's dining-room. To get drunk seemed a natural conse