obeyed, though not with the same elegance and cost, yet with the same alacrity and eagerness. A retrospect of these may perhaps astonish him : but let him turn inward, and be humbled; let him consider his own ways, he will find them iniquity, and every thought of his heart enmity against God.

Shall we attempt to draw the outlines of this enmity of heart, and inquire a little into its nature?

Could we draw it in lines of scarlet, were our colours black as hell, they would but feebly express it; nothing but the pen of inspiration can describe it fully.

Ignorance first demands our attention for, however the natural man may pride himself in his knowledge; though able to trace the stars in their revolutions, and follow the circling planets in their orbs; though he can dive amidst the treasures of the ocean, or can soar amidst thunders and tempest; though reason may have exalted him to the highest pinnacle of science, and have shewn him the arcana of nature; yet, as to any saving knowledge, God hath declared it of them, "there is none that understandeth, they are all gone out of the way." Nay, the very brutes excel them; for "the ox knoweth his owner, and the stupid ass his master's crib; but these do not know, nor wisely consider."

Ignorance seldom comes alone; for to this blindness of the understanding, obstinacy is an inseparable associate a companion this, of all others, the most unsuitable and dangerous. That those who know nothing should be so conceited of themselves as to refuse instruction, might perhaps exceed belief, did not the word of God assert, and every day's melancholy experience confirm it.

"Ye would none of my counsel, and despised all my reproof," is the character wisdom gives of them, though her counsel was for their immortal advantage, and her reproof

the most affectionate and tender. That it is as dangerous as unnatural, the same divine authority assures us. "Therefore shall ye eat the fruit of your own way (says she), and be filled with your own devices. He that sinneth against me, wrongeth his own soul; and all they who obstinately hate me, love death."

Thus ignorant of God, and thus obstinately bent to continue so, can we wonder that his affections are earthly, sensual, devilish? Yet, tremendous as this description may appear, it is equally just. Trace the man from his cradle to his grey hairs, where interposing grace does not renew the heart. What trifles engage his infancy and youth! over these, forgiveness draws a vail, hoping maturer years, and riper judgment, will direct to nobler pur

suits.

But observe him in his manhood; does he then remember his Creator, and are the paths of wisdom his determinate choice? Alas, the toys of childhood are only exchanged for different, and perhaps more dangerous trifles. The attention which lucre gains from him, and the preference he pays to pleasure, if not to avarice and sensuality, force the pious heart to confess, that God is not in his affections; but that his mind is carnal, and enmity against him. To follow him from the meridian of life, to the declining evening of old age, is but to trace through new or repeated scenes of carnality; for every page of the book of remembrance, written for him, is pregnant with neglect of, and enmity against God. If, as it is said, 'vice to be hated, needs but to be seen,' surely, thus blind in our understanding, obstinate in our wills, and impure in our affections, we must abhor ourselves in dust and ashes.-However becoming such an abhorrence may appear, yet while in this condition, and under the influence of this complicated carnal mind, it is impossible. For "the carnal mind is

enmity against God; is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be."

If the sight of this deformity will not convert, yet surely the view of its deservings must terrify him. If he is resolved to rejoice in his youth, to walk in the way of his heart, and in the sight of his eyes, yet let him remember, that for all these things God will bring him into judgment. And however the carnal mind may endeavour to forget death, to drown the thoughts of him in his cups, or lose them in the crowd of a theatre, to annihilate them in the smiles of beauty, or bury them beneath bags of gold; yet death, though slow in its approaches, is inevitably sure, and delay but accumulates his bitter

ness.

But death, however terrible in his appearance, is infinitely more awful to the sinner, when he sees him followed by the aggravated horrors of eternity. When eternity commences, death loses his hostility, the sinner courts him as a friend. But, alas! he cannot die. Though he calls upon the rocks and mountains to fall on him, and would think annihilation, bliss; he is cursed with immortality, and doomed to an existence co-equal with eternal ages; amid horrors which beggar all description, and to which every metaphor is infinitely inadequate.

How adorable then is that mercy, which cries, Save from going down into the pit, I have found a ransom ! A ransom! Is it possible? It is But wonder, O heavens! and be astonished, O earth! for though no less than the blood of God incarnate was sufficient for it, or could be thought equal to the purchase, the almighty Father spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all.

Reader. if thou art acquainted with this enmity in thine own heart, and hast tasted that the Lord is gracious to forgive and subdue it, thou wilt anticipate the bliss of heaven,

True happiness consists in nothing short of deliverance from all evil, and the possession of all good. He who hath found this, enjoys true happiness. He who hath not, is not, cannot be truly happy. But is there such a thing as true happiness to be enjoyed by the sinful sons of men in this world? Doubtless there is. Where is the seat of it? In the mind. How is it attainable? By the knowledge of God. How is God to be known? By the teaching of the Holy Scriptures. How is the love of God to be enjoyed? By believing him to be, what he has plainly revealed himself, by the inspiration of his own Spirit, in the word of truth: to wit, God in Christ, reconciled to sinners, and reconciling sinners unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them, but entirely forgiving them all, and at perfect peace with them. Because, as God is in Christ, so are all sinners, who receive and believe this word of reconciliation.

In this one, precious, peculiar, highly-exalted, glorified Man, God and sinners meet, and are in perfect union, sweet harmony, heavenly love, and happy peace. God delights in, and rejoices over them in Christ, and they delight themselves in God, and rejoice in Christ Jesus. Their new-born souls find every thing in him to their wish and desire: their minds are contented, and their consciences satisfied. Thus true happiness is found in God, and enjoyed by believing the truth as it is in

Jesus. For, in him, the happy man finds deliverance from all evil, and possession of all good. This is the sum of religion. This the happiness of a christian. And this true happiness can never forsake him, unless the truth is forsaken by him, and faith fails in him. Therefore it will be his constant, earnest cry, Lord, help my unbelief: Lord, increase my faith!

Now every other kind of happiness which the sons of earth seek after, rest in, and are delighted with, is only a short lived fancy, an airy phantom, a delusive dream. For it leaves them short of the knowledge of God, destitute of the enjoyment of him, and his love in Christ Jesus, and without content of mind, satisfaction, and peace of conscience; and all who stop short of this, and think themselves happy without this, will live wretched fools, and, if the grace of God prevent not, will die cursed madmen. For it is the irrevocable decree of heaven: "Blessed (or happy) is the man who trusteth in the Lord, (Jehovah, the covenant God-Father, Son and Spirit,) and whose hope the Lord is." But, saith the Lord, "cursed be the man who trusteth in man, and whose heart departeth from the Lord," to seek happiness in any other object beside him. Oh that men were wise, to choose happiness, and refuse misery.

W. M.

AN ACCOUNT OF THE TRIUMPHANT DEATH OF THE LATE MRS. M.- H.—

FOR Some time she was under a concern for her soul's salvation, and used to attend the gospel at our place of worship; but, falling into a decline, it advanced rapidly on her. She was at last confined to her room: myself, with others, used to visit her our conversation was generally of a spiritual nature, which she expressed herself much pleased with.—

When death looked her full in the face, she was asked how she felt in her soul. She said, she knew nothing of what she had heard that some christians had enjoyed, namely, assurance of heaven, and the pardon of sin; but could hope, and rely, and trust; and that she longed and prayed to enjoy the foretaste of glory.

One evening I called to see her, and found she was so exceeding weak and low, that it was not expected she could live out the night. She was very restless: her bones almost came through the skin; I think she was the greatest skeleton I ever saw. She desired I would pray with her, and supposed it would be the last time: when I concluded, she desired all might leave the room but myself, as she had something to let me know, which she must tell me. As soon as all were withdrawn, she rose up in the bed with as much strength as when she was in health, and told me, her soul was happy, happy in God; that, while at prayer, she had been almost in glory; that Jesus had manifested himself to her soul; that her doubts were all removed; that he had given her a feeling sense of his love; that both body, as well as mind, were easy, comfortable, and happy; and that her blessed, blessed Lord had let her down to declare it to us. On this her affectionate husband, and other dear friends, returned into the room, when she repeated and confirmed what she had said to me; and then, as if all the praising parts of the Scriptures were written in her heart or memory, they flowed from her tongue. "Bless the Lord, oh my soul! and all that is within me, bless his holy name!"

After spending some hours in praising the Lord with her and for her, I returned home. Very early the next morning, she desired I might be sent for. When I came, I went to her bed-side: she lay com

posed; we thought her asleep. After waiting some time, she desired to speak with me; and said, "I was not asleep when you came, but had been assaulted by the enemy, and had lost my roll (alluding to that circumstance in the Pilgrim's Progress), and was gone back to seek it :" and added, "Blessed be God, I have got it again." After this she lived nine days, and was indulged with uninterrupted joy and peace in believing, until she fell asleep, to awake in glory.

Whenever strength would permit, she was talking to many of her former acquaintance of the worth of their souls, and reality of religion; and particularly spoke of the assurance of heaven this side glory; saying, "If you have not believed the Lord's ministers, believe a dying woman." Then pointing them to her poor frame of bones, she said, "Do you think I would die with a lie in my mouth?" adding, "No, no, blessed be the Lord, I feel it, I know it, in my soul !" She would often

say to me, and some others, "Oh that the happy moment was come! Come, Lord Jesus! come quickly!" But fearing she should dishonour the Lord in not waiting patiently, she would say, "Thy will be done! Probably I am suffered to be here, to say something more for Christ; to testify to my poor fellow-sinners on earth, what Christ hath done for my soul." At one time she said to a dear sister in the Lord, whom she greatly loved, "My dear, I have heard that death frequently begins at the feet, and then creeps upward to the heart; I think I feel my feet and legs as if this was my case: do pray feel them"-which was done, and she rejoiced that death was so nigh. But this passing off again, she submitted to the wisdom and goodness of the Lord.

She had a great desire I might be with her at the time the Lord took her; which was granted as a favour

to me. Not many minutes before she died, she called me to her, and said, "Now the happy moment is just come; go to your knees, and commend me to the Lord in prayer.” I had not been long in prayer, before I was convinced death was near; nature felt a violent shock; she cried aloud, "Help, help!" I answered, The Lord stands ready to help you. She, with the most pleasing smile I ever saw, answered, "He doth, he doth ;" and with another struggle or groan she took her flight to glory. She begged neither her husband nor other friends would weep for her; saying, "What! weep for a soul gone to glory? No, but praise the Lord with me; you on earth, I in heaven" and desired we would sing, as soon as possible, this hymn: 'Hosannah to Jesus on high!

Another is enter'd her rest;
Another's escap'd to the sky,

And lodg'd in Immanuel's breast.
The soul of our sister is gone,

To heighten the triumph above;
Transported to Jesus's throne,

And clasp'd in the arms of his love."

FRAGMENTS.

One leak will sink a ship, and one sin will destroy a sinner.

One minute sooner than God's time would not be his people's mercy.

A believer's heel may be bruised, but his vital parts are out of reach.

He who thinks to draw saving graces out of natural principles, but spins out his bowels to die in his own web.

Praying only for carnal things, shews a carnal heart, and leaves it carnal.

Better to be a lost sheep than a goat or swine.

Repentance is the greatest honour next to innocence.

The comfort of a christian lieth not in his own fulness but in the fulness of Christ.

LINES

COMPOSED WHILE FOLLOWING A DEAR CHILD TO THE GRAVE.

"He is not dead, but sleepeth."

THE child is gone for ever where
He needs no more maternal care;
Faith triumphs, and forbids to weep,
For he's not dead but fall'n asleep.

But nature shrinks when called to part
With one sweet darling of her heart;
Yet God in love the rod did steep,
And whispered he has fall'n asleep.
Maternal love still drops a tear,
Fond parents could have wished him here,
That they might hear his accents sweet,
Tho' he's not dead but fall'n asleep.

His grief and sufferings soon were o'er,
He's landed safe on Canaan's shore,
The fruit of Jesus' pains to reap,
In whose dear arms he fell asleep.

Farewell, my child, thou now art blest,
Reclining on thy Saviour's breast;
Thy pleasures now are all complete,
And we must leave thy dust to sleep.

LINES

MARY.

ON THE DEATH OF TWO BELOVED CHILDREN WHO DIED WITHIN A MONTH

OF EACH OTHER.

"The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away: blessed be the name of the Lord."

YES, 't is Jehovah's hand that smites,
And bids his child be still,
Nor murmur at the painful stroke,
For he does all things well.

He kindly gave two children dear,
Which I did highly prize;
But ah, my sinful, foolish heart,
Too soon was drawn aside.

Each beauteous form, each lovely face,
Which had so gained my heart;
I little thought that death's cold hand
So soon would bid us part.

But Jesus comes to take them home,
I dare not say, Not so;

LIKE as the damask rose you see,
Or like the blossom on the tree,
Or like the dainty flower of May,
Or like the morning to the day,
Or like the sun, or like the shade,
Or like the gourd which Jonah had;
E'en such is man, whose thread is spun,
Drawn out, and cut, and so is done:
The rose withers, the blossom blasteth,
The flower fades, the morning hasteth,
The sun sets, the shadow flies,
The gourd consumes, and man he dies.
Like as the grass that's newly sprung,
Or like a tale that 's new begun,
Or like a bird that 's here to day,
Or like the pearly dew in May,
Or like an hour, or like a span,
Or like the singing of a swan;
E'en such is man, who lives by breath,
Is here, now there, in life and death:
The grass withers, the tale is ended,
The bird hath flown, the dew 's ascended,
The hour is short, the span not long,
The swan's near death, man's life is done.

Like to a bubble in the brook,
Or, in a glass, much like a look;
Or like a shuttle in weaver's hand,
Or like to writing on the sand,
Or like a thought, or like a dream,
Or like the gliding of a stream;
E'en such is man, who lives by breath,
Is here, now there, in life and death:
The bubble's burst, the look 's forgot,
The shuttle's flung, the writing's out,